


The Rain is Gone

by queenpenthesilea



Series: History Has Its Eyes [1]
Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk (2008), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, But No Team Cap Bashing, Character Death, Civil War Fix-It, Civil War Team Iron Man, Extremis Tony Stark, Fix-It, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Healing, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Porn, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Secret Identity, Slow Burn, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric, americas ass, but the authors opinion is that team cap fucked up and that has to be acknowledged, de aged tony stark, honestly all my boys need hugs, not wanda maximoff friendly, seriously read that tag, seriously these boys have some major healing to do before they get together, so i want to clarify that that im firmly team iron man, the rogues got mind controlled by wanda and are Not Happy about it, these poor children, this is still team cap friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-01-15 11:40:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 83,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18498211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenpenthesilea/pseuds/queenpenthesilea
Summary: Tony Stark is dead.Or, at least, that's what the world believes - that the great Iron Man was killed by Captain America in the Civil War. But if there's anything Tony Stark has proven over the years, it's that he's difficult to kill. And if there's anything Steve Rogers has proven over the years, it's that he's not a murderer.





	1. Rebirth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ink-Raven (k505)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/k505/gifts).



> Hey guys! So this work was the mind child of the wonderful, amazing ink-raven birthed in the comments of my other work, MH! Sooooooo so so much thanks to them for giving me their ideas and letting me run wild with them!! They're also basically beta-ing this work for me, so honestly a substantial amount of the credit for this goes to them. At least, like, 12% of the credit ;)
> 
> So, note that this work is not Wanda friendly, and it's CW Team Iron Man - but there's no Team Cap bashing.

“ – ogers, did you hear me? Mr. Rogers?”

Steve heard his name called as though from a great distance. 

“Steve?” Sam’s worried voice cut through his haze, and his eyes snapped to his friend. He blinked.

“I’m – I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” he asked, trying and failing to keep his voice steady.

King T’Challa eyed him sympathetically and inclined his head. “In the wake of the evidence that Wanda Maximoff has been influencing and controlling your minds since she engaged the Avengers in Sokovia, you have all been cleared of all charges in every country that brought a suit against you.”

Steve’s mouth opened and closed, surprise cutting through his numbness. “That seems…extremely generous,” he said finally. He heard noises of stunned agreement from the other Rogues around the conference table. A series of emotions crossed T’Challa’s face.

“Yes, well Dr. Strange’s assessment of her degree of control over your minds made a quite… _convincing_ argument for your having no power over your actions,” the king stated, his own opinion on the matter carefully concealed. The Dora Milaje behind him were similarly expressionless. 

“That’s bullshit. People died,” Clint said hoarsely, and Steve looked at his hands in silent agreement. “We…we shouldn’t get off free after that.” King T’Challa cleared his throat, an expression of sympathy crossing his face.

“By that logic, Mr. Barnes should still be locked up,” he said gently, and Steve’s heart froze. His eyes darted to Bucky, whose face revealed nothing, gaze locked steadily on the king’s face.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Bucky did nothing wrong, he was being controlled by Hydra,” he snapped, unable to help himself at the defense. T’Challa raised an eyebrow.

“That same logic can be applied to all of you,” the king pointed out, and Steve swallowed.

“It’s not the same,” he protested, but his voice sounded weak to his own ears.

“And why’s that?” T’Challa asked carefully.

“Because – because,” Steve choked, uncertain if he could finish his sentence. But the words burst out of him, almost as though of their own accord, as though they simply had to be said and not even his own guilty conscience could hold them back. “Because I killed Tony Stark!”

“Steve – “ Sam protested, but Steve shook his head, unwilling to hear any comforting words. He ached, the words pouring forth like water bursting from a dam.

“I killed him, I killed Iron Man, how can that just go away?” he asked, voice rising in something akin to hysteria. The other Rogues around the table were studiously avoiding his gaze now, though the king’s eyes were still meeting his calmly.

“And I killed Howard and Maria Stark,” Bucky said quietly, and all eyes snapped to him. But Bucky’s eyes were locked on Steve. “You didn’t want to. You wouldn’t have done it if you could help it. But someone made you. Just like me.”

“Buck,” Steve said weakly. “It’s not the same. Hydra took away your memories and took away your free will.” But Bucky was unflinching at his denial. 

“And the witch bent you to her will. You’ve told me how much she hated Stark. There wasn’t anything you could’ve done to stop yourself under her control,” Bucky said firmly. Though the words didn’t do much to soothe Steve, he could see that Bucky’s defense was having an absolving effect on the others sitting around the table, a mixture of guilt and hope for forgiveness highlighted in the tension in his friends’ shoulders.

“That’s not…” Steve’s voice trailed off, and he wasn’t sure even where he’d intended for that sentence to go. Not good enough? Not fair? Not going to bring Tony back?

He wanted his team to find peace with everything that had happened; heaven knew he’d have been the first to offer them absolution for everything they’d done under Wanda’s control if he could. But for him? How could he seek any measure of peace when his hands had murdered his friend and ally? A grieving son, a good man? A hero?

But his inner turmoil couldn’t intrude on T’Challa’s hospitality forever, and the king cleared his throat.

“Regardless of whether or not you believe you should be forgiven, the decision to clear you has been made. The quinjet is waiting in the hangar to take you to the Compound, where an Accords council member will be waiting to discuss the details of your return with you,” T’Challa said, his voice the very epitome of professionalism.

And those words were what it took for the information to start to hit Steve. They were going home. They were going _home_. Two years after seeking sanctuary in Wakanda, two months after Wanda’s death at the hands of the Dora Milaje after the witch lost her temper and endangered the lives of civilians around her, one month and 29 days since Steve and the other Rogues had woken as though from a deep sleep with scattered memories and a sense of deep personal horror, and they were finally returning home.

But Steve wasn’t entirely sure he could call it a home. Could it be a home if the person who’d made it feel that way was no longer there? If Steve didn’t get to spend spare moments on the couch in Tony’s lab drawing while the engineer created whatever new world-changing device he’d dreamed up? If he didn’t get to see Tony stumble in at ridiculous hours, bleary-eyed and hair sticking out everywhere, blindly seeking out coffee before returning to the lab for another inventing-binge? If he couldn’t watch the genius’s hands wave around wildly, grin bright and alive as he described some new idea that fascinated him that was far beyond Steve’s comprehension, but that Steve would listen to for hours on end anyway?

Could it be a home if he’d murdered the only person he’d felt at home with?

 

 

The news had broken on a warm Tuesday morning, the sunny weather perfectly at odds with the tone of the news.

“Iron Man Dead!”

“Stark Falls in Civil War!”

“The End of the Superhero Era!”

Headlines cried out fatalistic proclamations for the future, stirring up anger against the Rogues and fear for the populace now that Earth’s best defender had fallen. It had been a bitter kind of irony; the news had loved to hate Tony Stark in life, but he was a martyr in death, a hero who’d stood up for the will of the people against his fellow superhumans and had been betrayed and cut down by them for it. 

People had held candlelight vigils nightly outside of the newly-renamed Stark Tower from the moment the news broke until the day Tony Stark was laid to rest, and his funeral had been broadcast around the world and attended by the largest crowd in recorded history. Many world leaders had offered to speak, _requested_ to speak at the great Iron Man’s funeral, but in the end only two speakers had been announced. Pepper Potts, regal and composed as she’d faced the masses with red-rimmed eyes that outshone even her fiery hair, had stood at a podium with the setting sun haloing her at her back, a large image of Tony Stark to her right and the images of every man, woman, and child he’d saved who’d wanted to donate their picture to her left covering every inch of countless large whiteboards. She’d given a eulogy that spoke of Tony Stark’s fierceness and determination, of his love and compassion, of a man who’d freely given the world all of his brilliance in the hopes of making it _better_. Colonel Rhodes had followed, solemn and serious as the sun disappeared and the sky faded from gold and red to melancholic blues and purples, conveying a gravitas felt by each member of the audience as he spoke of Iron Man’s honor and loyalty, of his courage and sacrifice, of a hero who’d never shied away from making the sacrifice play.

There was not a sound to be heard when the speeches had finished and Colonel Rhodes had stepped of the stage, the dying sunlight fading away entirely at last, leaving the onlookers shivering in its absence. And as Iron Man’s, as _Tony Stark’s_ , coffin was lowered into the ground, the crowd had linked hands one-by-one, forming a sort of united front as a tribute to the world peace that had been so desired by their fallen hero.

And so Iron Man had become an _ideal_ in death, a _legend_ far beyond anything a flawed mortal man could possibly be in life, a _symbol_ of peace, courage, and the strength to stand up for what was right for the many. It was exactly what Tony Stark would have wanted Iron Man to stand for – so far from the Merchant of Death legend that the former title was finally found laughable in its inaccuracy. 

And it was blessedly, thankfully, a lie. Or, more accurately, a ruse perpetrated by friends who deserved the title of family in their devotion to the fallen hero. 

For Tony Stark had opened his eyes six weeks after Siberia to find himself very much alive.

He was not, perhaps, the Tony Stark that he _had_ been, however – and that was something that even now, two years later, he was still coming to terms with. So many changes had been made; the physical were the most obvious, of course, but the mental and emotional changes…those ran so much deeper. After being betrayed by people he’d considered nearly family, how could they not?

And though the changes had been oh-so-necessary for him to continue existing, sometimes he wondered if Tony Stark had ever truly come back from Siberia, or if the loud, magnanimous, charismatic man he’d been had died in the snow as the world believed. Such thoughts always left him quiet, reticent, and introspective in a way he hadn’t been before, and those spells seemed to almost frighten Rhodey and Pepper sometimes. It was understandable; he was no longer the person they’d come to know, and for them to see the depths of the changes had to be disconcerting. Sometimes he wondered if they regretted bringing him back.

But he knew that was silly, and he always forced himself to pull back on those thoughts. They had proven their love and devotion to him time and time again, just as he’d happily shown them the same. They were his family, and he was theirs, and nothing would ever change that.

Unless Rhodey irritated him to death, of course.

“Tony! Tony, get your ass up here or I swear to god I’ll send you to that nicely made up grave that everyone else thinks you’re lying in right now!” Rhodey hollered through the intercom, and Tony let out an annoyed huff. 

“FRIDAY, save my progress, will you? Can’t have Platypus huff and puff too much, he keeps complaining about his poor old heart and I can’t have that collapsing on him. He’d never let me hear the end of it,” Tony said absently, flicking away the flickering blue bits of code that floated around him, mind still whirring through his most recent calculations.

“Sure thing, Boss,” FRIDAY agreed, and the painstakingly assembled hologram that Tony had been poking at blinked away. He pushed himself to his feet easily, dusting off and heading to his nice private elevator. No sweaty workmen to be found there, nosiree. 

“Check our backup server from 2010 for any pieces that might’ve been overlooked. There are a few lines of code I’m not happy with that I think we could fix if we can just tap into those reserves,” he said thoughtfully as the elevator rose.

“You got it, Boss. Do you want me to assemble whatever I can find?” FRIDAY asked, Irish lilt echoing in the small space.

“Thrill me,” Tony responded with a tiny smile. The doors slid open, and he stepped out – and directly into the line of fire of a very unamused Colonel Rhodes and Pepper Potts in his living room.

“You were supposed to be up here thirty minutes ago, Tony,” Pepper said disapprovingly, and Tony aimed a beatific smile at her.

“Aww, Pepper, sweetums, did you miss me?” he simpered, striding across the room. She stood to greet him, arms crossed.

“Like a root canal on my birthday,” she responded drily, but didn’t resist when he tugged her in for a quick hug, his head coming up just below her chin.

Rhodey snickered from his spot curled up in a chair. “Y’know, Tones, I’d forgotten how short you were in college.” Tony glared at him, releasing Pepper.

“Hey, I’m barefoot, and Pep’s wearing heels. It’s not a fair comparison,” he protested, and then Pepper Absolutely Did Not Help matters by ruffling his hair.

“Sure, champ,” she said indulgently, smiling sweetly at his answering glare before patting him on the head and taking a seat on the couch. Tony plopped down in a huff beside her, arms crossed.

“I thought we were done with this whole ‘let’s give Tony shit and treat him like a little kid’ thing,” he said grumpily, very pointedly not pouting. Rhodey aimed a shit-eating grin at him.

“But Tones you’re such an adorable child, such a cute innocent little thing, we have to appreciate it while it lasts,” Rhodey cooed and Tony stuck his tongue out – which, _so_ not helping his case, but it made him feel better, okay?

“And when exactly did we stop treating you like a little kid, anyway?” Pepper deadpanned with a raised brow. Tony’s eyes narrowed at her.

“Mean, the both of you,” he decided. “I’m not sure why I put up with either of you.”

“Social security number.”

“MIT blackmail material.”

Pepper and Rhodey respectively answered immediately, then grinned at each other.

“Ah,” Tony said. “That.”

Pepper smirked, then cleared her throat. “Alright, we should get down to business.”

“Right, right. You have updates?” Tony asked, and Pepper nodded, then closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and seeming to steel herself. 

“There’s been a…development with the Rogues.”

Tony very, very carefully froze. The Rogues – the very people he’d been trying his damnedest not to think about for the past two years. He’d done everything to erase their memory from his Tower and the Compound – he’d cleared out their rooms and their stuff, redecorated some of the residential areas so that they had a different purpose, rearranged his lab so that it no longer had the place where St – Rogers used to sit and draw, and had FRIDAY censor all news stories pertaining to them unless they were of the utmost importance. He’d tried so, so hard to erase them from his life entirely – or, to erase the memory of them. He didn’t want to erase everything. He didn’t want to erase the lessons he’d learned at their hands – the lesson that trust should never be freely given just because someone called themselves a hero, the lesson that relying on someone once didn’t mean you could rely on them forever, the lesson that sometimes-my-friends-don’t-tell-me-things was a two-way street but the blame went only one way apparently. 

The lesson that sometimes he, Tony, was in the _right_. Followed by the lesson that being in the right wouldn’t save him.

Because he’d come back from Siberia – but he hadn’t come back as himself. The doctors had done everything, _everything_ , humanly possible to save him, but the damage had been too extensive. A vibranium shield to the chest had been more than his poor heart could handle, and he’d slipped into a coma nearly as soon as he’d gotten stateside and hadn’t woken. And so they’d given his friends a 48 hour prognosis and left them to grieve. 

But his friends, his foolish, stubborn, _wonderful_ friends had refused to give up. Tony had heard everything secondhand, about how Vision had spirited him out of the hospital and raced him to Dr. Cho. About how FRIDAY, his clever baby girl, had overridden his protocols to give Dr. Cho his modified version of Extremis. About how Pepper had found a vial of St – Rogers’s blood at SI, left over from their attempts to rescue as much from SHIELD as they could after it had fallen. About how Rhodey had helped FRIDAY find the files hidden under layers and layers of code names on the super soldier serum. About how Dr. Cho had taken the super soldier serum notes, the blood, and Extremis and combined them into one supremely dangerous cocktail, Powerpuff Girl style. 

It was an act of desperation, one last effort to save him from the claws of Death that had become so firmly entrenched in his too-pale skin.

But it was an act of desperation that had worked, though not in the way that it had been intended.

Tony had watched the footage a hundred times since he’d woken up. Watched the syringe enter his vein, the plunger pushing in and the glowing blue serum entering his system. Watched as his old, battered body had gone still for the briefest moment before it started to writhe. Watched as the glowing blue crawled up the veins in his arm, spreading and working its way slowly through his system, lighting him up as it went until he was covered in a crossword-puzzle of softly shimmering light tracing its way through each vein in his body. Watched as his wounds sealed over, bruises faded away, caved-in chest filled back out as the light grew brighter and brighter. Watched until the light grew so blinding that the cameras hadn’t been able to record any further, then continued watching until the light faded away, leaving a 19-year-old Tony Stark lying on the table, face peaceful and unblemished skin a healthy, rosy hue.

To say waking up to being a teenager again was a shock would be an understatement – but that, sadly, was actually the most _normal_ part of the changes that occurred. Over the next few weeks, Tony had tested out his newfound increased strength, stamina, speed, and durability, courtesy of the super soldier serum – all changes he’d expected, once he’d reviewed Dr. Cho’s notes on the changes made to him. His healing factor was off the charts, and he was far more agile than he remembered being. And, wonderfully, his brain now moved at a speed he’d never managed before – he’d always been fairly good at multitasking, but now he could do a dozen different mental tasks at once with ease. His memory had never been better, and his brain practically flew through new ideas and new information. 

All of those changes, however, were at least fairly predictable; the much more jarring adjustments came from Extremis. Tony couldn’t say for certain whether it was because of the interactions with the super soldier serum or if his own tinkering with Extremis had inadvertently led it down this road – but Extremis, for his sins, had made him a technopath. 

It was an ability he’d have _dreamed_ of having as a child – he could _talk to technology_ , essentially, interface with it and interact with data and code in a way that was _impossible_. It opened up doors that he’d previously labeled as walls, made technological advancements a foregone conclusion. And Tony was grateful – truly, he was.

But there would _always_ be a part of him that would wish this had never been necessary.

Because for all that he loved being able to interface with FRIDAY and his bots – and he _loved_ it, treasured this new connection between them – he couldn’t help but ache at the family he’d lost. 

Yes, it had been two years of healing, but he still felt broken so much of the time. 

Although he supposed part of that could be the isolation. After the transformation, he, Rhodey, Vision, and Pepper had sat down to discuss the proper steps moving forward, the other three staring at his youthful face with a mixture of sadness, wonder, and relief. It had been quickly decided that telling the world exactly what had happened – that he was Tony Stark post-experimental procedure – would be a terrible idea. SI would suffer, and the future of superheroes and therefore the safety of the public would suffer. For the moment, Iron Man was a beacon of hope, a shining example of heroism; if Tony showed his new face, there was a very real chance the public would turn to fear instead – fear sown by the Rogues but that could be nurtured by the uncertainty that always accompanied the unknown. And Tony would certainly be an unknown.

So Tony Stark would die. He would die – but that didn’t mean Iron Man had to die. With the Rogues out of the picture, the world needed superheroes to defend them, and Tony had often said the world would always have Iron Man. That wasn’t changing now. Tony had also, thankfully, had the foresight to have FRIDAY search for other supers long before the Accords and Siberia had happened in the hopes of growing the Avengers' ranks. All they needed to do now was recruit, in those cases.

But that left the conundrum of how to get this new, younger Tony into the Iron Man suit with the public’s approval. Iron Man was too revered, now, for the public to allow just anyone to step forward and claim the suit – it had to be someone with a personal tie to Tony. And in the end, there was really only one answer, only one thing they could do to carry on Iron Man’s legacy in a way the public would accept.

Tony would pose as his own long-lost son and, when the time was right, step forward and claim the mantle of Iron Man as his “birthright.”

Pepper had been the one to propose that they say that Tony had left his “son” the company for him to take over on his 21st birthday. This revelation would, of course, result in his son being revealed to the world and asked to take up his father’s mantle. It was a sound plan, especially since they had the money and resources to fake as much documentation as necessary to make this backstory appear as though it had been 21 years in the making – but it did mean that Tony was stuck indoors a lot, on the off chance that someone might see him coming in and out of Stark Towers or one of Tony’s other homes and start asking questions. They’d debated getting him a different home but had decided against it – the security systems in Tony’s current residences were all airtight, and they didn’t trust his safety to a less-secure location. 

So in the end, Tony had been alone far more than he’d have liked – or, as alone as he could be with Extremis in his head letting him enjoy the company of his bots and FRIDAY. Of course, it did give him the opportunity to solidify his new identity. They’d kept it fairly simple. He’d grown up in a small rural part of Wisconsin, raised by his mother who had requested that he be kept out of the limelight, a request that adult-Tony had respected by staying away and simply providing child support to keep paparazzi from finding out. He’d been homeschooled by his mother until he was of college age and had attended and graduated MIT at age 18, following in dear old dad’s footsteps. They’d paid off a few people at MIT to swear they’d seen him there during this time, in case reporters came snooping around. His mother had died while he’d been at MIT, and he’d remained in Massachusetts to work on his PhD in mechanical engineering where he’d gotten into a lab accident that had resulted in his strange new abilities. 

The hardest part for Tony had been picking a new name. He couldn’t go by Tony, it would be too suspicious. But he absolutely refused to do anything derivative of Howard or Maria’s names; he would not bear their neglect and mistreatment for the rest of his now-very-long life. He’d agonized for a while, but in the end the choice had been oh so simple.

“Jay,” he’d said to Pepper and Rhodey finally one day in the middle of a meal. They’d looked at him in confusion. “I want to go by Jay.” Pepper had swallowed her bite of food.

“Okay,” she’d said cautiously, eyeing him. “…is it short for anything?” Tony’s eyes had flicked automatically to Rhodey, and Rhodey’s expression of confusion had morphed quickly into understanding.

“Jarvis,” he’d realized, and Tony nodded.

“I thought Edwin or Edward seemed too old fashioned, and Jarvis is too obvious. But I used to call JARVIS ‘J’ all the time…so I thought Jay was a nice compromise,” Tony had said softly, and Pepper and Rhodey’s expressions were understanding.

And so Jason ‘Jay’ Anthony Stark was born. Or, well, created rather. 

And now his 21st birthday was coming up, and Tony was preparing to assume the identity of Jay Stark on a permanent basis, readying himself to get back into the public eye. He couldn’t deny that he was feeling some trepidation over it. He was ready to rejoin the world, sure – but the notoriety that came with his name had never been something he’d enjoyed. But he had a duty, a responsibility to the people of the world, and they needed him to take up the mantle once again. Not to mention all the new things he’d designed in his suddenly-copious amounts of free time; he was more than excited to see the positive changes some of his newer inventions could bring. 

It would be an adjustment that required careful planning, that much was certain – planning that Tony had initially assumed was what Pepper and Rhodey had come to discuss with him today, until the word ‘Rogues’ had left Pepper’s lips.

“What about them?” Tony asked flatly, already connecting to Extremis and searching the web for any mention of developments in the Rogues’ cases. There was nothing online, but, if it was a new development, it was likely it was held in more secure locations. He sought out the Accords files, letting himself slip through their firewalls as Pepper continued, eyeing him worriedly.

“I – oh, Tony, I’m not sure how to say this. Wanda Maximoff has been killed,” Pepper burst out, her careful composure slipping, and Tony couldn’t keep the shock off his face.

“Okay…and that’s…bad?” he asked cautiously. Pepper and Rhodey had such an air of trepidation that he thought their news must be unfortunate in nature, but…he couldn’t help but feel some relief at the news that Maximoff was gone from the world. She scared him; he was man enough to admit it. Anyone who could delve into someone’s mind and manipulate them deserved a healthy degree of fear, especially since said person hated his guts. Her being dead, cold as it made sound, only made him safer. 

But Pepper bit her lip, expression uncertain.

“Tony, after her death, the rest of the Rogues – well, it was like they came out of a trance, is what observers reported,” Rhodey stepped in, tone gentle and eyes locked on Tony’s. “They were confused at first and didn’t seem to know where they were. The reports say they seemed to slowly get their memories back of the past two years and seemed upset, so King T’Challa called on Dr. Strange to evaluate them.” Rhodey reached forward and took Tony’s hand in his, rubbing soothing circles over his thumb. “Tony, Dr. Strange’s report said that Maximoff had been controlling the Rogues for years, since she came onto the team. She’d been steadily influencing them until she had basically complete control over their minds. He said that he thinks that she was completely in control of Barton, Romanoff, Wilson, and…and Rogers by the time the Accords came around.”

Tony was silent. His mind felt sluggish, slow, puttering along more slowly than it had since Extremis came online. He swallowed. “So,” he cleared his throat, startled by how hoarse his voice had gotten. “So everything those four did…it was all her?” he asked. Siberia was all her, went the unspoken question, the question that he would _never_ let himself ask, partially because he wasn’t sure he could handle it if the answer was no, not after this sliver of hope had been handed to him.

“From what Dr. Strange could tell, yes, Tony,” Pepper said softly, and her hand joined Rhodey’s on top of his. Tony swallowed, the sluggishness in his mind being replaced by a frantic, panicked sort of buzzing. He tried to force it down, box it up, _compartmentalize_.

“So what now?” he asked, forcing his tone to be neutral, forcing himself to approach the situation as a third party who would hopefully be joining the Avengers and would therefore be responsible for dealing with the Rogues in one way or another. Pepper and Rhodey exchanged a look, neither of them clearly buying his neutrality but both knowing better than to push.

“There are talks of clearing them,” Rhodey said heavily, his forehead wrinkling in obvious consternation. The words slapped Tony, though he’d been expecting them after that revelation, though he made sure to keep his neutral mask in place. Sure, it was just Rhodey and Pepper here, but he had a feeling if he broke now, he might not be able to piece himself back together any time soon. And they needed to work right now.

“Probably using the same stipulations with which Barnes got cleared,” Tony nodded, seeing the logic easily, quartering off his emotions and slipping into his professional, clinically assessing mindset. “There’s a precedent for dealing with mind control with him. Makes sense that they’d extend the same logic to the Rogues. So what’s the timeline?”

“There’s nothing official yet, but my guess is they’ll be returning very, very soon. Maximoff’s death happened a month or two ago, and the Accords council has completed their investigation. They’ve already spoken with several of the countries that leveled charges against the Rogues and gotten them dropped, so they just need to speak with a few more and the Rogues would be in the clear,” Pepper responded, adopting his professional tone. It made it so much easier, to treat it as though it was a distant sort of problem, not one that directly affected him.

“What’s our play?” Tony asked, and Pepper and Rhodey exchanged another look.

“Well, we’d hoped to have Jay Stark rejoin as one of the first New Avengers, once the Accords council got around to re-establishing the group. But now, with the Rogues coming back…it looks like the New Avengers are going to be put off for a while so this can get sorted out,” Pepper said, and Tony nodded thoughtfully. Pepper seemed to hesitate, and Tony glanced at her. She let out a heavy sigh. “Rhodey and I think you should delay assuming the Iron Man mantle,” she stated as though expecting an argument, and Tony frowned. She hastened to continue. “We think you should rejoin the world as Tony Stark’s son on your 21st and take over SI’s R&D and as CTO, like you did before, but going back to being Iron Man…it seems risky.”

“Why? I’m no less ready than I was before the news about the Rogues,” Tony asked confusedly, brow furrowed. Pepper’s lips tightened.

“Yes, but before we thought you’d be able to recruit a team of people who could watch your back.” Not a group who stabbed you in the back. Tony’s eyes widened in understanding and a burst of affection bloomed through his chest. He didn’t deserve these wonderful friends who looked out for him so fiercely.

“It sounds like they didn’t have much of a choice about watching my back,” Tony pointed out, though the words were bitter and not even half-believed as they left his mouth. Sure, intellectually he was now aware that these people may not have ever wanted to hurt him – but he’d died at their hand. So emotionally? Emotionally, it was going to take him a while.

But his mind was whirring again, calculating all the possible outcomes and scenarios. “If Maximoff had control over their minds, there wasn’t anything they could’ve done. Like Barton with the scepter, or Barnes with Hydra. It’s…it’s no more dangerous to rejoin the world as Iron Man than it would’ve been before.” And again, the words left his lips like lies, the memory of a shield coming down over his chest too brilliant to be pushed aside by such fresh revelations.

“Tony – “ Rhodey started to protest, but Tony shook his head, his mind already a few steps ahead, turning over what would happen if he rejoined…and what would happen if he didn’t.

“I think I have to rejoin them,” Tony said, his voice heavy and so devoid of happiness that his friends’ mouths snapped shut. He closed his eyes, tiredness already settling back over him like a well-worn mantle that he’d only temporarily been permitted to remove. “The world hates them right now. They won’t trust them, not even after the revelation with Maximoff. Not after everything they did, especially since they did it so publicly. Barnes could be forgiven because his crimes were much less… _personal_ to most people, but the Rogues are associated with the death of Iron Man, and they won’t be so easily forgiven. The easiest way to get the public to trust them, to trust in _heroes_ …well, the easiest way would be if Iron Man’s son was seen to be publicly supporting and working alongside them.”

He looked up, meeting Pepper’s and Rhodey’s eyes bleakly, letting his mask slip for a moment. The two looked stricken. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he half-commanded, half-pleaded. Pepper’s eyes were quickly reddening from barely-restrained tears and Rhodey looked almost murderous.

“Oh, Tony. Tony, I wish I could,” Pepper whispered finally, squeezing his hand as a tear slid down her cheek. “Your logic, though…you’re right. I hate it, so _so_ much, but you’re right.”

“You still don’t have to, though, Tones,” Rhodey said quietly, eyes fixed firmly on their intertwined hands. At Tony’s questioning noise, Rhodey lifted his eyes to lock onto Tony, and Tony was surprised by the fierceness he saw there. “You don’t have to do it just because it’ll make things a little easier for some people. You can be a little selfish. You’ve,” Rhodey’s voice broke, “you’ve earned that much, at least. After everything you’ve been through. You can do what’s better for you, for once.”

Tony’s heart filled, and he squeezed Rhodey’s hand. “Thank you, Platypus. But I have to do this. Otherwise, what was all this for?” he said rhetorically, gesturing at his new, young, Extremis-enhanced body. He shook his head, letting steel wash through him. “It has to be for something, and I can’t let what I want get in the way of what’s best for the people I’ve fought for. Not now, not after everything I’ve already given up for them.”

Rhodey sighed, long and heavy. “We thought that’s probably what you’d decide, you self-sacrificing bastard.” He gave Tony a wan smile, and Tony smiled back, letting the mood lift.

“In that case, we need to discuss what to do before they get back,” Pepper chipped in, the tension still heavy on her face, though she was clearly attempting to shake it off. “If you’re going to rejoin the Avengers from the start, it would probably be best to get your name out there now. Your 21st is in just a few weeks, and it would make sense for SI to have reached out to you at this point to let you know what you stand to inherit. With all the degrees and awards and papers that we’ve been able to set up as part of your back-story, as well as the section in Tony Stark’s will that wills Iron Man to you, that gives us good reason to go ahead and introduce you to the Accords council and get that started. We’ll ask them to keep everything quiet until you take over as heir to SI for confidentiality reasons. Then, on your 21st, we can set up a press conference to announce your identity to the public at large.”

Tony nodded. “That sounds like a good plan to me. When do you want to get started on introducing me to the Accords council? And what are the chances the Rogues come back before my 21st?”

Pepper smiled grimly. “As soon as possible. Tomorrow, if you’re ready for that. And pretty high, from what I’ve been told. Right now, the only signees of the Accords are Vision, Rhodey, and Spider-Man, since we’ve kept your lists of heroes who might be interested quiet. The Accords council is anxious to shore up Earth’s defenses, and, if the Rogues are innocent, they’re an attractive resource to the council.”

Tony sighed. Nothing was ever easy. “Right. Well, I guess I should start preparing for tomorrow, then.”

It was going to be a shit show, of that he was certain. Everything in his life always was.

 

Tony – or, Jay, as he was trying to train himself to answer to – tried not to fidget in the uncomfortable wooden seat, face tilted up to the incredulous faces of the council members. He was painfully aware of how young he looked, unruly curly dark hair hastily tamed, face clean and smooth, the last vestiges of puberty only having recently started to fade from his face and body. His eyes were large and dark on his face, far more innocent-looking than they’d been once he’d gotten older, and Tony could only assume that faux-innocence was a trick of his youthful appearance.

“Miss Potts, you’re saying this…Jason Stark is Tony Stark’s son and heir?” asked one councilmember, and older man who Tony – Jay, he reminded himself – vaguely remembered from two years prior. 

“Correct, Councilman,” Pepper said calmly from where she was seated beside him. “As you can see in the copies of his will that I’ve provided, Mr. Stark left Jason Stark his company, his fortune, properties, and assets, as well as the Iron Man suits, with the clear directive that Jason Stark was to become the head of Stark Industries and serve as Iron Man if he so chose on his 21st birthday.”

“This…this is….” The councilman seemed to be floundering for words.

“Unexpected,” one of the councilwomen interjected smoothly, turning piercing eyes on T – Jay. He met them squarely, face a perfect mask of solemnness and seriousness. “Mr. Stark, how long have you known the truth of your father’s identity, if I may ask?”

“My mother told me when I turned eighteen,” Jay responded evenly, and several council members raised a brow.

“That would have been one year before he…passed. Did you ever speak to him? And why have you not come forward before now?” asked a councilman. Jay took a breath.

“I did, once,” he said, pulling out the story he, Pepper, and Rhodey had cooked up. “Not in person, but my mother gave me a phone number that my father had given her after he found out about me. She gave it to me on my eighteenth birthday after she told me who my dad was and said I could call if I wanted to. I did.

“I haven’t come forward before now because…I guess because there was no reason to. Miss Potts contacted me after my father died to tell me what he’d left me. Everything had to wait until I was 21 anyway, and I was in the middle of my PhD. There didn’t really seem to be a point to announcing everything to the world when I couldn’t do anything,” Jay responded, voice as earnest as he could make it. It was sound reasoning, no one could argue with that. Jay watched as the council members nodded, seeming to accept his logic. 

“And now? What exactly do you want to do now?” a councilwoman asked. Jay tilted his head, appearing to ponder.

“I’ve admired Iron Man since I was a child, long before I knew he was my dad, and my talents seem like they’re similar to his. I believe in what he stood for – protecting the people of Earth and standing up for what’s right. If I can do what he did for people, I want to,” Jay said firmly, letting himself lock eyes with each of the council members, projecting as much youthful bravado, idealism, and steel into his overly-sentimental statements as he could. The council members bought it, hook, line, and sinker, nodding, pleased smiles crossing their faces.

“In that case, Mr. Jason Stark, welcome to the Avengers Initiative.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as a clarification because I've been getting a lot of comments about this: Steve hiding the truth about Tony's parents _did_ happen before Wanda came into the picture, and that's something Tony/Jay is going to have trouble forgiving, especially since he's been used for his money/tech/brains in the past and has some major trust issues. This is a fix-it fic, but not a sweep-it-under-the-rug-and-pretend-it-never-happened fic - there will be a reckoning, but Tony's waaaay more forgiving than I would be tbh.
> 
> love y'all, keep the comments coming with your wonderful questions and thoughts and ideas!!!


	2. Rejoin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rogues come home and there are a lot of feels and a lot of talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wanna guess how many times I typed 'tony' and had to backspace to replace with 'jay'? it was a lot of times.
> 
> so!! new chapter!! guess who should be studying right now and is 100% writing fanfic instead ayyyyyy!! hope you guys enjoy :)

When the plane touched down on American soil, Steve wasn’t sure what he felt. Numb, maybe? In shock? 

Guilty?

He glanced around the cabin, gauging the moods of the rest of the team. Scott and Clint looked the most eager; both had been talking nearly non-stop about how excited they were to see their kids again since they’d received the news. Sam looked pleased but pensive, and Steve knew from a couple of heart-to-hearts post-Wanda that the man was still bothered by what had happened with Colonel Rhodes. Natasha was harder to read, her face blank as she grabbed her bag from an overhead compartment. Bucky was similarly stoic, though he gave Steve a small smile when he noticed Steve’s gaze.

“It’s gonna be alright, Stevie,” Bucky whispered softly to him, and Steve tried to smile in return. It was rare, seeing the softer side of his Bucky. Hydra had put so much in his mind, had stolen so much of his life, that the Bucky Steve knew came through mostly in brief glimpses. The rest of the time, his old friend was quieter, more observant, _harder_ than his Bucky had ever been. Steve was careful not to pressure Bucky to feel like Steve expected him to be his old self; he’d been in a war, he’d seen what that did to people – he knew Bucky could never be the same man he’d been, not after 70 years as a POW. Steve was just happy that he had his friend back in any form.

“I know,” Steve lied. He had no doubt the former-assassin could hear the lie, but Bucky only nodded in easy acquiescence. 

They disembarked the plane in relative silence, stepping onto the rooftop of the Compound, small bags of the possessions they’d accumulated over the past two years flung over a shoulder. A stern-looking woman in a business suit was waiting for them, briefcase in hand, as they strode closer.

“Welcome, Avengers,” she said formally when they came to a stop in front of her. “My name is Carrie Hale, and I’ll be your liaison to the Accords council. If you’ll follow me, we’ll get you settled back into the Compound.”

And with that, she turned and walked away, heels clicking as she crossed to the rooftop door. Steve glanced at the rest of the team then followed, the group trailing behind. 

“There have been some renovations since you were last here,” Carrie was saying as they caught up, swiping her key card and pulling the door open. The Rogues followed after, entering the Compound for the first time in two years one after another. Steve glanced around, searching out changes but noting that most everything looked the same so far. As they moved deeper into the Compound, however, it became apparent that some facets of the Compound had been shuffled around. “Some of the residential areas have been repurposed for training grounds or laboratories. There are two common areas for team members to congregate while off-duty and three conference rooms for any official meetings,” Carrie continued as she led them through, weaving in and out of hallways until Steve felt a bit like a rat in a maze. She finally came to a stop outside of a room surrounded by floor-to-ceiling glass walls, inside which was a large oval table and chairs. “We’ll be using this conference room for today,” Carrie finished, swiping her key card to open the door and gesturing for the Rogues to enter.

Steve walked in first, picking a seat on one side of the table, Bucky taking the seat to his right and Natasha the seat to his left. The other Rogues filed in, settling quickly around the table. Carrie came in last, shutting the door behind hair and stepping smartly to take the seat at the head of the table. She pulled a stack of papers from her briefcase, setting them on the table and sliding packets to each of the Rogues. Steve glanced down at his. **Accords Provisions: Avengers Code of Conduct** was stamped across the top of the front page. 

“These contain the rules and regulations specific to the Avengers under the Accords council. You’re an independent team, but the Accords provides for some degree of regulation concerning how you’re run since you started as an offshoot of a government agency, especially since you’re being housed in a building that is now government property,” Carrie said, her tone clipped and efficient.

“So not everyone who signs the Accords has these same rules in place?” Natasha asked shrewdly, and Steve blinked, running back through the woman’s words. Carrie nodded in confirmation.

“Correct, Miss Romanoff. Three of our other Accords signees have not opted to join the Avengers at this time and signed as independent entities, so they are bound only by the rules of the Accords themselves. We don’t yet have any other superhero teams who have signed, but, should that happen, they would be able to make their own group regulations with the Accords council in a manner that best suited their group’s structure. The Avengers’ regulations have already been created and ratified due to their relation to the government, as well as the…unusual situation and the need for public reassurance in regards to this particular team.”

“Are we sure that these regulations will work?” Sam asked, and Carrie turned an unimpressed raised eyebrow on him. He hastened to explain. “No offense meant, ma’am, I just meant – since you haven’t had any other teams set up regulations yet and none of the Avengers consulted on this, are we sure that the regulations will work in a team setting?”

Carrie pursed her lips, though not in a displeased manner. More in a thoughtful one, as though she was debating whether or not to disclose a piece of information. “An Avenger _was_ consulted on this, actually,” she said finally, and Steve wasn’t alone in letting out a startled noise.

“Who?” Steve asked blankly, glancing around and trying to figure out which member of the Avengers they were missing. His brow furrowed. “Vision?” he guessed, looking back at Carrie, and the woman shook her head.

“Vision chose to sign as an independent hero,” Carrie said. “No, the person who signed is someone you haven’t met yet. You’ll be meeting him later, though. He’s residing here at the Compound, as is part of the Avengers’ agreement with the Accords council, and he agreed to stop by at the end of our meeting to give you the rest of the tour so that you can begin becoming acquainted with one another.”

Steve frowned. “I didn’t realize the council was looking to expand the Avengers’ ranks,” he commented almost absently, mentally picking at the situation. Something was _off_. Carrie was being evasive – there was something about this new member that Carrie didn’t want to tell them.

Based on the calculating look Carrie aimed at him, he was pretty sure Carrie knew that he’d guessed something was up. “All will be explained in time, Captain Rogers,” she said. “Now, if we can get back to the documents?”

 

 

The Avengers were upstairs.

It was a fact that Jay had very firmly relegated to the back of his mind as he hammered away at the armor. He’d had to make some adjustments accounting for his new size (he was _not_ short, thank you very much Rhodey, he was simply still growing!), and those adjustments continually required even more adjustments as his stupid twenty-year-old body continued to finish its growing process. 

_Boss, Miss Potts is on the line for you,_ FRIDAY pinged him through Extremis. They’d discovered it was much easier for her to pull him out of engineering binges if she contacted him like that instead of trying to get his attention vocally. Jay sighed.

 _Patch her through,_ he responded, wiping his hands off on his grease-stained jeans and straightening up. He glanced at the screen as Pepper’s face popped up, pristine as always.

“Pepper, light of my life, apple of my eye, what can I do for you?” Jay asked with forced cheeriness, guessing at the reason for her call.

“Hey Ton – Jay,” she greeted him, slipping at the last second. They were all trying to adjust to his new identity now, knowing they couldn’t afford to slip up in front of the press. “I’d asked FRIDAY to let me know when the Avengers arrived, and she said they got there about an hour ago.”

Jay hummed noncommittally, hearing the unspoken question. “I haven’t seen them yet,” he told her, and she nodded, looking relieved.

“Wait until Rhodey or I get back, okay?” she instructed, and Jay shuffled his feet guiltily. Her eyes narrowed. “To – Jay. What did you do?” she asked suspiciously, and he gave her an apologetic smile.

“Their liaison asked me to come up and meet them at the end of the meeting, and I said yes,” he admitted in a rush, flinching at the upset look on Pepper’s face.

“Jay, why?” she sighed. “We told you we wanted to be there when you had to face them for the first time.” And she sounded so disappointed, Jay couldn’t help but get defensive.

“I’m sorry, Pep, it’s just – she’s like you, ya know? All badass and scary but not in like a mean way, more in like a terrifyingly competent way where she asks you to do something and it’s not _really_ a question, it’s an ‘I-know-best-you-will-do-what-I-say-foolish-mortal’ kind of thing,” Jay rushed to explain, waving his hands erratically. 

“Well, I _do_ know best,” she huffed, still frowning but looking slightly mollified. Jay quickly nodded.

“Of course you do, pumpkin, no one’s disputing that. Miss Hale – that’s the liaison – she just has that same Pepper Presence,” Jay said earnestly. “And I’ve been trained to respond to that kind of presence by the best.” He smiled beatifically at her, and she snorted.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” she warned him. “I don’t care if you’re Tony or you’re Jay, I can tell when you’re trying to butter me up and it’s not going to work.” She sighed. “But in this case, I guess I see your point. I’d be scared of me, too, if I wasn’t, well, _me_.”

“You are frighteningly efficient,” Jay agreed. Pepper sighed again, and Jay gave her another bright, innocent smile.

“Just…promise me you’ll be careful. I’m still in Hong Kong working on the alliance with Chen Inc. and Rhodey had to report back for a few days to discuss the Avengers again, so I don’t think either of us would be able to get there in time,” Pepper said tiredly.

“I promise,” Jay said quickly, then frowned. “Is honey bear still trying to negotiate so he can join the Avengers, too?”

Pepper nodded. “He says it’ll make him feel better if he can be there to watch your back in a more official capacity. The Air Force hasn’t been going for it so far, especially since he can’t exactly use that argument with them since they don’t know you’re the Tony who was almost killed by them in Siberia. With all the stipulations to being an Avenger, they’ve been making the argument that Rhodey can’t be a full-time Avenger and still serve in the Air Force, and he’s still got a few years of service left.”

Now it was Jay’s turn to sigh. “I wish he wouldn’t push that so hard. I’ll be okay, and I don’t want him risking his position so he can babysit me.”

Pepper smiled wryly at him. “Pretty sure that’s a lost cause there, Jay. We’re going to worry about you, you don’t get a say in the matter.” Jay’s answering small smile was far more genuine. Then Pepper changed the subject. “Have you heard from Vision lately?”

Jay shook his head. “No, not very recently. He checked in a few days ago to let me know he was in Naples, but he’s mostly offline. He wants to explore the world in as much of a human manner as possible. I keep telling him he _is_ human, so all of his experiences are in a ‘human manner’, but he then he’s all ‘semantics’ and I don’t really have a rebuttal for that.” He waved a hand irritatedly, and Pepper smirked.

“Wow, he sounds stubborn, wonder where he got that,” she deadpanned, and Jay stuck his tongue out at her, then frowned.

“I just don’t want him to think he’s less than human, ya know?” he said quietly, and Pepper’s eyes softened.

“Oh, honey, I know. And I’m sure Viz understands that, too, he just needs to get to know himself a little better,” she reassured him. Jay gave her a half-smile.

“Thanks, Pep. What would I do without you?” he said, trying for levity.

“Nothing good, that’s for sure,” she teased, and Jay laughed. “Will that be all Mr. Stark?”

“That’ll be all, Miss Potts,” he said, smiling fondly at their old call-and-response as the screen went black.

“Boss, Miss Hale is nearly finished with the Avengers. Would you like for me to take you to their floor?” FRIDAY asked, and Jay tried to ignore the swooping feeling in his stomach.

“Uh, sure. Wait, let me freshen up first, Fri,” he said distractedly, feeling distinctly off-kilter.

“Sure thing, Boss,” FRIDAY responded, and Jay ducked into the small shower he’d had built into every lab he’d made, something he’d found to be necessary the nth time he’d gotten chewed out by Pepper for being smelly and covered in grease and motor oil when he went upstairs to greet important people. He toweled off, pulling on an ACDC t-shirt and a non-stained, non-ripped pair of jeans, which was really far more than anyone should’ve expected of him. He glanced at his reflection in one of the glass walls to his workshop; he looked like any other kid, he thought a little sardonically. Wild hair, jeans and t-shirt, and a hating-the-world frown firmly set in its rightful place. He certainly didn’t look like a 47-year-old man trapped in a 20-year-old’s body who’d been almost murdered by one of the people he was about to face.

That was probably a good thing.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself and striding over to the elevator. No point putting it off any longer. FRIDAY slid the doors open for him wordlessly, no doubt reading her creator’s stress levels if the brush of worry Jay felt against the back of his mind was any indication. The elevator rose to the main floor silently as Jay steadied himself, reminding himself that they couldn’t hurt him; FRIDAY was in every room and could come to his defense at a moment’s notice, and he certainly wasn’t defenseless by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, between the super soldier serum and Extremis, he was pretty sure he could beat Rogers even without the suit, if it came down to it. He’d prefer not to test that theory, though.

The elevator came to a stop. “We’re here, Boss,” FRIDAY said quietly, unnecessarily. 

“Right,” Jay said, blinking a few times. They can’t hurt him. He’s safe. He can do this. The world needs him to do this. “Right,” he said again. “You can open the doors, baby girl.”

The doors slid open. _I’m right here with you, Boss,_ FRIDAY’s code brushed against his mind comfortingly.

 _Thanks, baby girl,_ Jay sent back, letting warmth infuse the message. He stepped out of the elevator, eyes lighting on the conference room ahead. Through the glass walls, he could see the old team gathered around the table, the majority with their eyes on Miss Hale, but some looking down at the packets in front of them. He swallowed, giving himself a moment to take them in. Clint, Sam, and someone he assumed was Scott Lang had their backs to him, so he couldn’t tell much besides that the back of their heads seemed healthy enough. Natasha was focused on Miss Hale, expression neutral but eyes as calculating as ever, probably running through every word the poor liaison said and looking for double meaning. He felt a bit of a pang, looking at her. Of all the Avengers sans Steve, she’d probably been the one he was closest to. She’d seen him at his worst, when he was dying (or, well, his post-Afghanistan worst). She’d sided with him, initially. Her betrayal had cut deeper than Clint’s or Sam’s. Maybe not deeper than Steve’s, but Steve was a special case.

His eyes slid to the man in question, as though drawn by a magnet. Steve was looking down at the paper, brow furrowed as though he was trying to ensure he absorbed every word on the page. Jay’s eyes traced his face, a deeply unsettled feeling coursing through him, borne of the disconcerting cocktail of trust and fear, of longing and revulsion, of love and…well, he couldn’t quite bring himself to hate Steve. Even after everything. But somehow, that almost made it worse; at least there was some logic in being so mixed up after everything. For him to be unable to hate the man who’d nearly killed him, even if it had been at the behest of another? That wasn’t logical. It wasn’t even _sane_.

Jay shook off the confusing array feelings, forcing himself to move on from Steve – and finding himself staring directly into the eyes of the Winter Soldier. He recoiled, unable to stop himself, one hand jerking up defensively on autopilot before he remembered himself and quickly lowered it. Barnes hadn’t looked away in that time, his expression unchanged, and Jay made a silent fervent prayer that his lapse could be explained away as justifiable fear of the people who’d attacked his dad – otherwise this secret identity thing was fucked, and it was just minute one of meeting the team. 

Barnes’s gaze was steady, neither challenging nor particularly curious, simply assessing, as though Jay was nothing more than an interesting painting on the wall. Jay returned his stare unblinking, waiting for his heart to stop hammering in his chest. When he’d finally started to calm, Barnes blinked once, slowly, languidly, then looked back towards the front of the room where Miss Hale was finishing her presentation of the packets. 

Jay shoved his hands in his pockets, taking in a deep, shuddering breath – and that movement was enough to draw Miss Hale’s attention, her eyes snapping to him and small pleased upturn of the lips crossing her face. She beckoned to him, gesturing for him to come in, and now the rest of the team turned his way.

Steeling himself and ignoring the eyes on him, Jay pushed himself forward, pressing the glass door open and putting himself in the same room as the Avengers for the first time in two years. 

He kept his expression very, very carefully neutral, letting his eyes roam and examine those seated around the table while projecting as much of an unconcerned air as he was capable.

“Good afternoon,” Miss Hale greeted him, gesturing at the seat at the head of the table opposite her. “Please, take a seat. We were just finishing up here. Do any of you have any questions?” She turned her attention back to the Avengers, but they had yet to turn their attention back to her, each of them openly staring at him. Miss Hale cleared her throat and, like a group of scolded children, everyone guiltily turned their attention back to her. She raised an eyebrow. “Questions?” she prompted again. There was silence around the table, and she nodded to herself as though she’d expected that. “Alright, well, don’t hesitate to reach out if anything comes up that you’re uncertain about. My phone number is in the packet, and I’m available at nearly any hour.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Steve said, his voice the epitome of Captain America politeness, and it was so painfully familiar that Jay refrained from flinching by the skin of his teeth. She inclined her head to him.

“Now, I believe introductions are in order,” she said, and it was as though she’d given the team permission to gawk at him again, all eyes swiveling to lock on to Jay. He kept himself still, determined not to fidget. Show no weakness, and all that. They didn’t look unfriendly, at least; more curious than anything, if he was reading their expressions right. Although he had no idea what Steve was thinking – he was steadfastly refusing to glance in that general direction. “Avengers, this is your new team member. If you’d like to introduce yourself?” And it took Jay a moment to realize she was speaking to him. He had to hold in an eye-roll; of course she didn’t want to introduce him – likely, she didn’t want six superheroes blowing up in _her_ face with questions. She was leaving that particular pleasure to him.

“Sure, thank you, Miss Hale,” he responded politely regardless. He looked around the table, careful to keep his expression neutral. Well. Nothing else for it then. May as well rip off the proverbial band-aid. “Hi everyone, I’m Jason Stark, Tony Stark’s son, and I’ll be working with you as Iron Man.”

Pepper would have sighed exasperatedly at him if she’d been there, berating him for having zero tact, as per usual.

The room went deafeningly quiet, eyes that had been curious now stricken. 

“Y – you’re…?” Clint was, surprisingly, the first one to speak, face pale and bloodless.

Still carefully neutral, Jay said calmly, “Tony’s son, yes.” Clint blinked rapidly.

“I didn’t know Stark had a son,” Lang said softly, eyes haunted and fixed firmly on his hands. Jay remembered with a twinge that he had a daughter; probably thinking of what would’ve happened if he hadn’t come home to her, if Jay had to guess. 

“He never said anything,” Natasha said, and Jay risked a glance at her. Her face was so perfectly blank, the exact overly-controlled mask he knew she wore when she was having particular difficulty tamping down on an emotion. 

“My mom didn’t want me growing up in a media circus, so she asked him not to,” Jay responded, though it hadn’t necessarily been a question.

“And you’re how old, exactly?” Sam asked, and Jay turned to him and arched an unimpressed eyebrow.

“I’m twenty,” he said simply but with a hint of steel. He would not be brushed aside for his apparent youth, not when he’d been brushed aside for much less than that even before the change.

“Twenty,” Clint repeated, looking horrified. “That’s…that’s so young to lose a father.”

And Jay didn’t really have anything to say to that – certainly not that he’d actually lost his father even younger than that at the hands of a _different_ super soldier sitting at this table.

“You’re taking over as Iron Man?” Sam asked, as though Miss Hale’s earlier words had just sunk in. Jay nodded.

There was a loud screeching sound, and Jay’s eyes snapped towards the noise, eyes locking onto Steve’s form towering over the table, the super soldier having pushed back his chair and stood. Jay froze, looking up at the man who was very studiously not looking at him, face a mixture of pain and anguish and guilt. Nobody spoke, watching him as his shoulders heaved, then Steve turned and walked swiftly out of the room. 

Jay blinked. That…that was not what he’d been expecting. There was silence for a moment, then – 

“I’ll go after him,” Barnes said, pushing back his chair and following Steve out the door.

The silence resumed.

“Right, well,” Miss Hale coughed awkwardly. “We should probably wait until Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes return before we continue discussing Dr. Stark’s role on the team – “

“ _Dr_. Stark?” Clint interrupted, and Miss Hale nodded, looking bemused.

“Dr. Stark has his PhD in mechanical engineering and has been working on a second in physics, from what I understand,” she answered.

Sam whistled. “Damn, kid, I thought you said you’re twenty.”

“I am,” Jay responded with a shrug. “I started college a little early.”

And now they were staring at him for a different reason. “Guess you really are Tony’s son,” Natasha commented, face inscrutable as she assessed him. Jay raised an eyebrow.

“You didn’t think my dad would leave me the suits unless he knew I could fix them, did you?” he asked, and _that_ finally managed to crack the Black Widow’s perfect mask. Her eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You can make the suits?” she asked, voice impressively even. Jay nodded, letting a small cocky smirk cross his face. If he was playing Tony Stark’s son, he might as well go all the way.

“’Course. That’s the easy part. The arc reactor technology was a little more difficult, but Dad’s notes were pretty straightforward, and what he didn’t write down I was able to guess,” Jay said airily, and now the entire room was gaping at him. Good. He knew how to handle people staring at him for being too smart for his own good; it was much better than them staring at him for being the son of someone they’d inadvertently killed.

“Definitely Tony’s kid,” Natasha decided with a wry smile, and it was the first time any of them had said Tony’s name without some sort of hushed reverence or guilt. He gave her a sarcastic smile in return.

“That’s what they tell me,” he bantered and was gratified to see a flare of what looked to be _delight_ in the spy’s eyes. His flippant responses seemed to be having an almost calming effect on the rest of the group, the tension that had been building since the announcement of his identity starting to seep away. Jay felt his own shoulders start to relax. He aimed a small smile at Miss Hale. “Maybe we should go ahead and start the tour, and the Avengers can meet up to continue to discuss team matters later?” he suggested and pretended not to notice the _relief_ that swept over the woman’s face.

“That sounds like a great idea, Dr. Stark,” she said, standing, and the rest of the table stood with her. “I’ll leave you them in your capable hands.” 

 

 

The tour had been uneventful, and Jay was grateful for it. The easy back-and-forth he and Natasha had shared in the conference room continued, and it seemed to make the others feel more comfortable and willing to participate in the banter. He got a few curious questions about himself, but nothing too intrusive, and Jay had dropped them all off at their rooms in the East Wing almost before he knew it.

He felt strangely energized when he re-entered his lab, an involuntary small smile still spread across his face that he was very diligently attempting to ignore. Because he knew what it meant – he’d missed this, far too much. Rhodey and Pepper were wonderful, and he wouldn’t trade them for the entire world. But he’d missed the feeling of being on a team, of the comradery and comfort of being a part of a group, a _family_ , that had your back. 

And he wasn’t blind – he knew he was viewing his years with the Avengers through rose-tinted glasses. They’d had problems, like all families did. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been used, for his tech and his money and his brains – especially since Steve had been using all three of those to hunt Bucky down without telling him what he knew about Bucky’s past. And he’d played scapegoat for them too often, though he blamed himself some for that – which was part of the problem. He was so quick to blame himself that it only made sense others would follow suit. And he hadn’t been innocent in the problems with their little Avengers family, either; he’d pushed them into moving in, had probably been trying too hard to make them feel at home, feel welcome, feel like a _family_. He was pushy and he wanted his way, and he was sure that had caused some friction when others disagreed with him.

But at least now, looking back, he could identify his own shortcomings and make sure he _never_ ended up in the position he’d been in before – though he’d admit that he hoped that they could still work their way back towards the comradery they’d had in the beginning, before the copious amounts of baggage each of them carried had started driving wedges between them. 

“Boss, Captain Rogers is asking for your location,” FRIDAY cut in on his reverie. Jay jerked, startled.

“What?” he asked blankly.

“Should I tell him where you are?” FRIDAY asked, and Jay’s mind raced. Did he want Steve in his lab? No, no the answer to that was a very emphatic no at the moment.

“No, ask him what he wants, please, baby girl,” Jay instructed. A moment.

“He says he wants to talk with you,” FRIDAY responded dutifully, and Jay frowned. 

“Oookay,” Jay drew out, uncertain. Steve had basically fled from him earlier. What did he want with him now? Jay bit his lip, then shrugged. Probably better to just go ahead and find out. “Tell him I’ll come to him.” Another pause.

“He agreed. He’s on the fourth floor in one of the common rooms,” FRIDAY reported.

“Thanks, baby girl,” he said with a smile as he headed for the elevator. “Anyone there with him?”

“No, boss, he’s alone,” FRIDAY answered, and Jay hummed in response. The elevator came to a stop, and Jay stepped out, feeling more uncertain than nervous. Steve was standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room, fidgeting and looking at Jay with a pained expression that he’d tried and failed to turn into a welcoming smile. 

“Dr. Stark,” Steve greeted him formally, and Jay forced himself not to flinch at the first words Steve had spoken directly to him since Siberia. _He was my friend._

_So was I._

“Call me Jay, please,” he said quietly, and Steve nodded jerkily.

“Jay, then. And you can call me Steve, if you want,” he offered, and Jay nodded slowly. Steve fidgeted again, then gestured to one of the chairs. “Will you sit?” he asked, voice painfully stiff and uncertain. Jay nodded again, moving further into the room and taking a seat. Steve sat on a couch near him, gaze fixing on his hands and looking lost.

“You wanted to talk to me?” Jay prompted finally, and Steve swallowed, looking up to meet his gaze. Jay wanted to balk at the pain he saw in those ice blue eyes, the despair, the self-loathing, the torment.

“I did, yes. I – I wanted to apologize,” Steve said, sounding like he was holding himself together with super glue, his voice ragged. “I – your dad – Tony – he…he was one of the greatest men I ever knew. He was brave and kind and generous and so self-sacrificing and – and I took him from you.”

“You didn’t – “ Jay started, but Steve interrupted him almost vehemently.

“I did. It may not have been my choice, but it was my hands that did it, and…and I’m so, so sorry. God, I’m _sorry_ ,” and with that, Steve’s voice broke and his face crumpled, and he hid his face in his hands. Jay blinked, guilty surprise surging through him. Even though he knew intellectually that a lot of Steve’s behavior had been Maximoff’s doing, there had still been a piece of him that had held on to the cruel indifference Steve and the others had shown him after Ultron. Their unkind behavior had been a slow thing, starting with cold glares and sharp words, then slipping into purposely leaving him out of team bonding events and ignoring him when he entered a room, then slipping into scathing remarks about his past and his pathetic attempts to make up for it. When he’d eventually decided to step back from the Avengers, moving out of the Compound and informing the public he’d be working on an independent basis for a while (because SI needed more of his attention, of course, nothing more!), they’d watched him go with an air of satisfaction, not one of them asking him to stay. And yes, he knew now that it had been Maximoff’s doing, but there was a part of him that still felt like the team believed all those things they’d said about him, that they truly didn’t want him around, and Maximoff had just given them the excuse they needed to be rid of him.

So to hear Steve call him – Tony – a good man and express such a deep, sincere _regret_ over his passing? Well, it was more than Jay had ever expected.

“It’s not your fault, S – Steve,” Jay said, tripping over the name a little but trying to show his conviction in his voice. “Maximoff had you under mind control, there wasn’t anything you could’ve done.”

“I should’ve known,” Steve protested, voice rough and slightly muffled against his palms. “I should’ve known she was messing with me and fought it off. _I should’ve known_.”

“How?” Jay asked simply, and Steve stilled, lifting his face and looking at Jay in confusion.

“How what?”

“How should you have known? From the report, it sounds like Maximoff was worming her way into your heads slowly enough that nobody noticed until she died and her influence vanished. Fuck’s sake, my dad was a genius and _he_ didn’t even notice,” Jay pointed out. It wasn’t exactly true – he as Tony had pointed out several times that Maximoff was ex-Hydra and had fought against the Avengers until Ultron had basically told her and her brother that he was going to kill them. He’d told them he wasn’t sure she could be trusted – but he’d never thought she’d been controlling the others the whole time. Even he hadn’t seen _that_ coming.

But the half-truth was worth it for the slight lessening of self-flagellation on Steve’s face. “I guess that’s true,” he murmured. “But still. I killed your father. I killed Tony Stark. And I’m so sorry. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m so sorry.”

“Wanda Maximoff killed my father,” Jay said firmly. “Just like Hydra killed all the Winter Soldier’s victims and Loki killed all of Hawkeye’s when they were under mind control.” Steve looked at him, startled and with a strange mixture of hope and disbelief. Jay sighed. “You don’t need my forgiveness because you haven’t done anything to forgive – but if it means so much to you, you have it. You’re forgiven. And I know if my dad were here, he’d forgive you too.”

Steve frowned, a complex series of emotions warring on his face. “Thank you,” he said finally, and Jay inclined his head. Silence fell for a moment, but Jay hesitated to leave. Steve wasn’t okay yet; he could tell from the stiff set of the man’s shoulders that he was still clutching desperately at the guilt that weighed him down, and Jay didn’t have it in him to leave without offering as much as he could in the way of comfort. 

Steve’s guilt was at least partially his fault, after all, because Tony Stark wasn’t truly dead, but here he was letting Steve believe himself a murderer. Jay’s stomach curdled unpleasantly at the thought; somehow, the realization that he’d be inflicting this sort of punishment on Steve hadn’t crossed his mind, and, for all that the Rogues had been cruel to him under Maximoff’s control, this felt even _more_ cruel, especially since he was doing it of his own volition.

Jay had to forcibly remind himself that this was the best way forward for the world at large, that it was, unfortunately, the right thing to do if he wanted to keep the public’s trust in superheroes. But the least he could do was offer comfort, so he wracked his brain for something, _anything_ that might provide some sort of consolation to Steve.

“Dad was a futurist,” he finally settled on, eyes drifting to look out the window and into the leafy greens and open, star-studded skies surrounding the Compound. “He’d want us to keep moving forward. He knew the risks when he signed onto the Avengers Initiative, and he believed in the Avengers up till the very end.”

“And look where that got him,” came Steve’s whisper, and the blond man’s eyes were locked on his hands again. The words sounded haunted and unwilling, as though they were being pulled from him involuntarily. And, like a dam had broken, more followed, rushing out in a sea of hopelessness that Jay hadn’t realized Steve was capable of. “He’d have been better off if he’d never gotten involved in the Avengers at all. Hell, a lot of people would be better off if the Avengers hadn’t been founded. All the destruction we wrought under Wanda, thinking we were doing the right thing? Bruce Banner said something on the helicarrier the day we first got called together – he called us a time bomb. And he was right. Maybe the world would be a better place if the Avengers hadn’t been created at all.”

And the last words were uttered so bleakly that Jay felt a flare of guilt followed by a surge of anger. He had _not_ given up his former life, fought so hard, been through _so much_ for _this_.

Steve didn’t seem to notice his ire, shaking his head ruefully. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t dump on you – “

“No,” Jay interrupted, voice hard, and Steve’s eyes snapped up to his in surprise and confusion.

“No?” he repeated blankly.

“No. You don’t get to say the world would be better without the Avengers, not after everything my dad did to give the Avengers a chance,” Jay said stoutly, and Steve flinched, but Jay continued on ruthlessly. “You’ve made mistakes – big deal, everyone makes mistakes. My dad sold weapons for the first part of his life, and some of those weapons ended up in the hands of terrorists. And do you know what he did? He acknowledged that he’d been careless and tried to _fix_ it. So now it’s your turn, Captain. You made mistakes – not killing my dad, that’s _not your fault_. You made the mistake of letting Maximoff on the team and giving her that access to you all, and now you have to fix it, and you don’t fix something by abandoning it. So you’re going to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and you’re going to help put the Avengers back together again, because _that’s what my dad would have wanted and that’s what you know is best for the world at large_ ,” Jay finished fiercely, eyes locked on Steve’s as the man blinked at him, looking shocked and scolded for a moment before a wry smile crossed his face.

“You remind me of him,” Steve said softly, sadly, _fondly_. “He liked to joke around and tease a lot of the time, but when he was passionate about something, he had this, this _fire_ in him. And you have it, too.”

Jay swallowed, put off-balance by the unexpected compliment. Steve’s smile turned soft, though his eyes remained haunted. “I’m glad to see that trait lives on in you. The world needs it. Thank you for speaking with me, Jay.”

And with that, he nodded, then stood and left the room, leaving Jay staring after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> side note - bless you all for your amazing comments, you guys give me all kinds of inspiration for future chapters, not to mention the encouragement, thank you so much <33 pls definitely feel free to drop me notes about things you'd like to see, and, if they don't interfere with what ink-raven and I have already got planned, I'll do my best to work stuff in! you're all wonderful <3


	3. Regroup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhodey and Pepper have some Words with the Avengers + Jay and Rhodey are bad at secret identities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what is UP people, it's ya girl back on her bullshit!!! so, this chapter features a LOT of salt against the Rogues with lots of guilt tripping, although character bashing is still not intended in this fic! mostly, this is just friends reacting protectively, as besties do when their friend gets hurt, so they're laying blame and calling for accountability. for those of you who were rooting for rhodey/pepper taking on the rogues, I hope this chapter is what you envisioned!! and again, thank you so much for giving me feedback in the comments, you guys!!! y'all inspire the hell out of me <33

The next day began too early for Jay’s taste. Of course, considering the fact that he’d ended up working on the armor till the wee hours of the morning trying to pound out the confusing array of emotions his conversation with Steve had dredged up, it was likely that any time before noon would’ve felt too early. 

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he stumbled towards the communal kitchen, superficially knowing that he might run into the other Avengers, but the knowledge not truly registering in his uncaffeinated brain.

The kitchen went quiet when he entered but Jay didn’t notice, shuffling his way with dead-eyed determination towards the coffee machine. Getting onto his tiptoes to open the cabinet above the coffee machine, Jay snatched the largest mug he could find and poured till it was in danger of overflowing. He lifted the mug to his lips reverently, gulping down a third of the black, tar-like substance in an instant and letting out a satisfied hum.

“It’s like he’s Tony’s clone,” Clint muttered from the table behind him, quickly followed by an “Ow!” that Jay assumed was probably Natasha elbowing him. Ignoring the commotion in favor of his coffee, Jay took a few more sips, letting the caffeine wash over him and make him feel a bit more human before he finally turned around. Clint, Natasha, and Sam were all sitting at the table, plates of Pop-Tarts, scrambled eggs, or toast in various states of consumption in front of them, not-so-subtly eyeing him.

“Morning,” Jay greeted civilly, proud that his voice didn’t sound like the grumpy sleep-deprived gremlin he currently felt like. 

“Good morning, Dr. Stark,” Natasha greeted, and Jay snorted.

“It’s Jay, please, nobody calls me Dr. Stark except Miss Hale. And sometimes the Accords council, but I think they’re just being funny,” he said stepping forward to lean against the island that separated him from the table. 

“Jay,” Natasha said easily, giving him a cautious smile. “I don’t think we got to go through introductions yesterday. I’m Natasha, that’s Clint, and that’s Sam.” He nodded at each of them in turn.

“Good to meet you,” he said easily, not pointing out that he’d have to have been living under a rock not to know who they are. “Did you all sleep well?” The three Avengers nodded, and Jay nodded and smiled in return, then sipped his coffee, letting silence fall. The silence didn’t really bother him, allowing him the chance to savor his coffee, but the other three fidgeted. 

“So, Jay, tell us a little bit about yourself,” Clint invited, and Natasha and Sam couldn’t quite mask their curiosity, turning their eyes on him.

“Ooh, are we interrogating the new guy?” A vaguely familiar guy with a very impressive case of bed head waltzed into the room, and Jay identified him from yesterday as Scott Lang. The man grinned at Jay, plopping into a chair and reaching to snatch a Pop Tart off of one of the plates only to have Clint bat his hand away with a half-hearted glare.

“Not interrogating, just wanting to know a little more about a new teammate,” Sam corrected, and Scott waved a hand.

“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to,” he said, and Jay found himself liking the guy a bit. 

“Probably best if we save it for when everyone gets here so I only have to go through this once,” Jay said wryly, and Sam shrugged easily.

“Fair enough,” he acquiesced. 

“Steve and Bucky should be up by now, I can go wrangle them if you want,” Clint offered, looking around the group.

“Might as well,” Natasha agreed, and Jay hummed his consent.

“Meet in the conference room in ten?” he suggested, then waited till he got noises of affirmation from the rest. Satisfied, he refilled his coffee cup and left the kitchen, heading to his hardly-used room. He was in the East Wing with the others, but his room was at the end of the hall, directly by the elevator and therefore easy to slip in and out of without running into people. He darted quickly into his room, changing out of his sleep clothes (which were his regular clothes, but after being slept in) and into a fresh band tee and jeans, running a brush through entirely-uncooperative hair. Through his closed door, he could hear the muffled sound of Clint’s voice, and Steve and Bucky’s voices in response. He waited until he heard doors close before snatching his coffee back up and heading back upstairs to the conference room.

Everyone was already present when he arrived, sitting in the exact seats they’d claimed yesterday, and Jay strode in to take his own pre-ordained seat. Unlike yesterday, though, the Avengers generally seemed in better spirits, chattering with one another, some good-natured ribbing about morning breath and waking up before sunrise making its way to his ears. Surprisingly enough, Steve even looked his way when he entered, meeting his eye and offering a nod that Jay returned. 

They quieted when he sat down, though, turning to face him expectantly. Jay tried to ignore the weight of Steve’s eyes on him, offering a calm smile. “So, I imagine you have some questions,” he prompted, having already decided that letting them get their curiosity out was probably his best bet. He really had no idea where to start anyway, so it seemed as good an idea as any to just let them direct the conversation. He took a sip of his coffee, waiting for the questions to start.

“Did you know Tony?” Clint blurted out immediately, and Natasha skewered him with her eyes.

“Clint, seriously? That’s the _first_ question you’re going to ask him?” she asked, voice a mixture of unimpressed and deadly. Clint shrugged sheepishly.

“It’s alright,” Jay cut in amusedly. “It’s a fair question. I never met him in person, no. My mom kept everything secret until I turned 18, then she gave me the phone number he’d given her for if I ever wanted to reach out. We spoke over the phone or FaceTime, and we texted, mostly.”

“So you only knew him for, what, a year?” Scott asked, frowning, and Jay nodded, keeping his expression neutral. “Why didn’t your mom tell you earlier?”

Jay shrugged. “She didn’t want me growing up in the middle of a media circus, and I think she was afraid I’d do something rash if I knew. In her defense, there’s a high likelihood I would’ve,” he said with a small grin.

“Maybe we should steer this towards team-related business instead of personal questions,” Steve interjected, and Clint and Scott looked abashed. Jay had to agree, though; the purpose of this was for them to get a better understanding of how he’d work with them as a team.

“Alright. Jay, you said you’re taking over as Iron Man? What exactly does that mean?” Natasha asked, eyes piercing and getting right to the point.

“It means I have an armor that I’ve been working on in the lab that FRIDAY helps me pilot,” Jay answered. “I’ve been working with it for a few weeks now” plus or minus 10 or so years “so I should be able to act as aerial support on missions.”

“Are you planning on taking on any of Tony’s other roles on the team? I’m not sure how up to speed you are on everything Tony did for us – “ Natasha continued, and Jay interrupted.

“FRIDAY and Pepper filled me in, and I’ve looked through Dad’s notes on all the stuff he’s made for you over the years. I can fill in for almost all of his old roles – tech support, gear repairs and upgrades, the works. The only thing I’m really not trained for is taking over his role as the main media handler,” he responded, the lie slipping effortlessly through his teeth with no small sense of relief. He’d hated having to handle all the Avengers’ press. He’d understood why it had fallen to him – he’d been a media darling since he was four years old and had built his first circuit board, and the only other one on the team with any real training being in front of people was Steve and that had been in the 1940’s. But all the same, it would’ve been nice not to be responsible for being at every press conference, regardless of whether the rest of the team was there or not. 

Sam grinned. “You really are a chip off the old block, aren’t ya?” Jay smiled at him in turn, shrugging.

“That’s what they tell me,” he answered airily. There was a pause, the Avengers clearly searching for the right words, and Jay wondered if he should just bring up his abilities and lay it all out there for them unprompted. Thankfully, the choice was taken from him.

“Are you bringing anything else to the team?” Steve asked, then blanched when he realized how that might sound. “Not that what you’re currently bringing isn’t enough, but just if there’s anything else…?” he trailed off, clearly uncertain how to gracefully exit that particular can of worms. Jay hid a smile and decided to put the poor man out of his misery.

“There is, actually,” he admitted, and his tone caught the attention of the rest of the team, their eyes locking on him raptly. He hesitated, fiddling with the handle of his coffee mug just to give his hands something to do, then launched into the painstakingly created, purposefully vague story they’d settled on for how he got his new abilities. “While I was at MIT working on my doctorate, I got interested in Dr. Banner’s work after my dad and I had a conversation about it.” He smiled wryly. “All I can say is that, if I were some sort of Greek hero, my tragic flaw would be hubris, because I decided it would be a wise idea to start messing around with gamma rays.”

There was a slew of sharp inhales around the table, but Jay ignored them in favor of continuing. “As you probably guessed, it didn’t go as planned. One of my experiments backfired on me, and, well, I ended up with a few…tricks,” he said, hesitating on the last word. He risked a glance around the table, noting with some amusement that they were all eyeing him with varying degrees of trepidation, as though searching for a greenish tint to color his skin.

“What kind of tricks?” Steve asked finally, and Jay smirked, eyes flashing bright blue as he connected to Extremis, directing the TV at the head of the table that was intended to be used for conference calls to flick on and display the words ‘Hello World.’ There was a moment of shocked silence before they figured it out.

“You’re a technopath,” Natasha breathed. Jay grinned.

“Basically,” he agreed, holding one hand out palm to the ceiling and letting small blue arcs of lightning flow from finger to finger. “It kind of extends into a control over electricity that lets me link up with electronics,” he explained further.

“Dude, that’s badass. So are you like Thor, then, with the lightning stuff?” Scott asked eagerly, and Jay snorted and shook his head.

“Nothing that powerful,” he said wryly. “Mostly, it just means I can interface with technology, link up with the internet, and hack into things with my mind.” Sam whistled, impressed, and he didn’t appear to be alone in that sentiment.

“Of fucking course Tony Stark’s kid would be a technopath,” Clint snorted, then he hesitated. “Wait, did he know about your abilities?”

Jay shook his head. “No, I didn’t get the chance to tell him, it happened pretty soon before he…” And he couldn’t bring himself to say the word ‘died,’ knowing the effect it would have on the people around this table, but, if their distraught looks were anything to go by, the forbidden word had echoed in the air anyway. Jay cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’ve already spoken with the Accords council about it, so it’s something we can use on missions, if needed.”

Natasha nodded. “I can see how that will be useful,” she said neutrally, breaking the somber tension. 

“Boss, Colonel Rhodes is approaching the Compound,” FRIDAY’s Irish lilt interrupted.

“Thanks, Fri. Let honey b – let him know we’re in conference room A,” Jay said, catching himself on the nickname a moment too late and cursing himself for the slip. Oh well, hopefully they’d just think there was some sort of Stark predilection for awarding ridiculous nicknames to people. It was too much of a leap to jump from ‘uses the same nicknames for people as his father’ to ‘secretly the de-aged version of Tony Stark’, right? And frankly, the chances of him breaking his nicknaming habit were slim to none, so he might as well establish that part of “Jay’s” personality now.

“Rhodes is coming?” Sam asked, sitting a little straighter and looking a little haunted.

“Yeah, he wanted to check in and see how everyone’s settling in,” Jay said easily, knowing Pepper had probably panicked yesterday about him meeting the Avengers alone and tattled to Rhodey. 

“I thought he wasn’t an Avenger,” Steve commented with a frown. “Miss Hale said he was an – an independent signee or something?”

Jay nodded. “Yeah, Rhodey opted for the independent option because of his involvement with the Air Force, but he still likes to check in. He and Pepper have been looking after me since my mom died,” Jay explained, and there were raised eyebrows all around the room mixed in with expressions of sympathy.

“Your mom?” Scott asked, and his frown deepened at Jay’s nod. “Was that recent?” Jay nodded again.

“A few months after Dad,” he said shortly, hoping to end the discussion of his fictional parents’ deaths; it would only bring unnecessary guilt and pain to the people in this room. “I was at MIT. Pepper had contacted me after Dad to let me know what all I could…expect down the road, but they both reached out after Mom to offer support and stuff. Which was pretty handy, actually, since the lab accident happened pretty soon after that – I dunno who I’d’ve gone to if they hadn’t offered to be there for me.” Jay smiled wryly, the words holding a bit more truth to them than he’d really intended, just in a different way than his audience believed. He was lucky to have friends like Rhodey and Pepper, and he knew it with all his heart. For all that he felt like the world liked to shit on him, it had gifted him with two of the most beautiful souls in his life. Or three, really, since Jarvis was certainly one of the best people to ever exist. Oh, and also Happy. And Peter, and Harley. God, he was so lucky.

“It’s good that you have their support,” Steve’s voice was barely more than a whisper, and it jerked Jay out of his reverie. He blinked, taking in the melancholic expression on the other man’s face, and guilt twinged through him again. Of course Steve was punishing himself for orphaning Jay. God, Jay wished he could just _tell_ him, just to relieve Steve of that burden. 

“It is,” Jay agreed quietly, unsure how to steer the conversation away from its depressing turn. When in doubt, he decided, it was probably best to fall back on the tried and true – deflect, deflect, deflect. “So, Mr. Barnes, how is it being back in to the States?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light as he met the slate grey eyes of the Winter Soldier. Bucky looked surprised to be addressed. “You were brought out of cryo just a couple of weeks before the pardons, right?” he prompted.

“Call me James,” Bucky – no, James – said, and Steve made a small noise of surprise. James offered him a half-smile tinged with a hint of bitterness. “It feels like a better fit than Bucky right now, Steve. I don’t remember being him all that well, feels wrong to steal his name.”

“That’s fair,” Jay said softly, understanding the aching feeling of trying to squeeze yourself into a name. He’d had to try to fit into the name of Anthony Stark for most of his early life until he’d been able to make it his own, and now he was trying to figure out who Jay was and how to be him. James turned his attention back to Jay, startled and looking somewhat…appreciative at the shared sentiment. Jay offered him a smile. “James, it is. You settling in okay, James?”

“I am. The Compound has a lot in the way of resources,” he responded, and his voice was a strange mixture of calculating and curious that Jay mentally chalked up to being a 100-year-old super spy-slash-assassin dumped into the 21st century. Jay smiled at him.

“That it does,” he agreed. “Princess Shuri told me she managed to remove the triggers?” He phrased it as a question, hoping to get James speaking a bit more; he hadn’t noticed as much before with everything else that was going on, but he’d yet to hear the Soldier say more than a few words.

“Yes, the Princess was very helpful. I’m still not sure how she did it,” James admitted, and Jay’s smile grew more pronounced.

“Yeah, that’s Shuri for you. Smartest person I’ve ever met,” he said with a laugh, pleased at how the somber air seemed to be dissipating in the wake of the new conversation topic. “Heard she made you that arm, too. Wouldn’t mind getting my hands on that,” Jay said with a grin, and James cocked an eyebrow at him.

“What for?”

Jay pouted exaggeratedly. “She wouldn’t tell me what all she did to it, which is so totally not fair. I tell her what all I’m doing with Iron Man! Fair’s fair, she should tell me how she made your arm,” he said with a huff, and was delighted to see Natasha trying to hold back a smile.

“Maybe she didn’t want you stealing her ideas, zvyozdochka,” the spy said, and Extremis pinged him with the translation in the bottom right corner of his vision – ‘little star.’ He spared a moment of thought for the endearment, recalling how Natasha had once commented when he’d still had the arc reactor embedded that it was as though he held starlight in his chest. But the more important aspect of the nickname caught his attention quickly enough.

“Hey, I am not little!” Jay said indignantly, and Natasha’s eyebrows raised.

“You speak Russian?” she asked, surprised, and Jay shrugged.

“I speak a lot of things,” he answered evasively, knowing that was going to raise questions, but also knowing it was more than likely he’d forget what languages he told people he spoke if he tried to pick just a few and then slip and understand the wrong one at an inopportune moment. 

“Eto mozhet byt' interesno,” James commented, and Jay glanced over to see the man’s eyes flashing with a sort of wicked delight as the translation pinged in his periphery – ‘this could be entertaining.’ His eyes lit up, searching Extremis for the phrase he wanted.

“Predvizhu kuchu sekretnogo trepa,” he responded, smirking. James snickered, and Natasha looked amused.

“Oh god, what are they saying? Are they plotting world domination? It sounds like they’re plotting world domination,” Clint fretted, eyes darting back and forth between the three. Jay’s smirk only widened, even as his eyes caught on movement at Clint’s back, and he saw Rhodey striding towards them. James, Steve, and Natasha, all facing the right direction to catch sight of the Colonel, straightened in their seats.

“Everything sounds like you’re plotting world domination in Russian,” Scott remarked, though he also narrowed his eyes at them. Jay smiled innocently as Rhodey entered the conference room, already looking distinctly exasperated.

“That’s such an American thing to say,” Sam said, rolling his eyes as he turned towards the sound of the door opening. His mouth dropped at the sight of Rhodes standing in the doorway. 

“Is Jay plotting world domination already?” Rhodey asked sardonically, though his smile was soft and fond.

“Rhodes, you’re – you’re – “ Sam sputtered, eyes wide, and Rhodey turned to look at him, momentarily confused. A look of dawning comprehension crossed his face, and he nodded.

“Standing and walking, yes,” he said, and Sam shook his head.

“I knew you’d been able to walk with braces – but you’re not wearing them?” The words turned up at the end, rendering the statement a question, and Rhodey half-smiled in response.

“Ditched the braces a year or so ago,” he said easily, striding to the opposite end of the table to take the remaining empty chair and lounging back, the picture of relaxation as he answered Sam’s unspoken question. “Tony had perfected Extremis before he died.” The room collectively flinched at that, but Rhodey appeared not to notice. “Had a few people smarter than me look over it and dilute it a little further down before injecting me with it. It healed my spine right up.”

“Is that…is that safe?” Clint ventured, then shrugged sheepishly when Rhodey looked at him, unimpressed. “Hey, you can’t blame me for asking, there was that whole thing where people who got injected with that blew up.”

“What part of ‘Tony perfected Extremis before he died’ did you not understand, Hawkeye?” Rhodey asked pleasantly, and Jay coughed.

“Ooookay, so now that everybody’s here, how did things go with the Air Force, sugar plum?” he asked quickly, and Rhodey narrowed his eyes at him, noticing the deflection for the blatant attempt at reigning in his platypus’s ire that it was. But, blessedly, he rolled with it, dropping his verbal sparring match with Clint, much to Clint’s apparent relief if the release of tension from his shoulders was any indication.

“They’re not budging on letting me join the Avengers,” he admitted reluctantly, frowning. “They say it would take up too much of my time, and that the military has to come first so long as I’m on active duty.”

Jay had to nearly physically hold back his ‘I told you so.’ “Sorry about that, honey bunches,” he said sympathetically, guilt shooting through him at the remembrance that Rhodey had gone to all that trouble for _him_ , in the hopes of making sure he’d be safe around the Rogues. 

“Yes, we’d have loved to have you, Colonel,” Steve said earnestly, and Rhodey skewered him with a look. 

“Wow, I’m honored,” Rhodey said, tone biting. “It’s so good to know I’d have been welcomed on a team where teammates routinely murder each other and then get let off with no consequences.” Steve went ashen, recoiling like he’d been slapped, and the rest of the Avengers looked stricken.

“ _Rhodey_ ,” Jay bit out, eyes narrowed, and he waited until his best friend met his eyes defiantly. But Jay stubbornly didn’t back down. “Stop,” he said, the word simultaneously commanding and pleading, and Rhodey looked like he wanted to argue, but he gritted his teeth and settled, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair.

“Fine. _Fine_. For you, I’ll drop it,” he said, tone still acerbic and looking entirely too pissed off, but holding his tongue at least. Jay counted that as a win.

“So, did you have any other reason for coming here, sugar bear?” Jay prompted, hoping desperately the deflection would push the conversation in a different direction. Rhodey sighed and nodded, leaning onto his elbows.

“I’m sure Miss Hale went over the team structure with you briefly, but the Accords council thought it might be better for me to go through it with you more thoroughly since I have more experience with fieldwork and a chain of command,” Rhodey said, looking around at the Avengers, clearly trying (and sort of failing) to keep his expression from being openly hostile.

“Miss Hale mentioned that we’d have co-leaders, one on the field and one off, as well as a second-in-command on the field in case the first was compromised for any reason,” Natasha stated, voice bland, and Rhodey nodded.

“It was the opinion of the Accords council that the public sphere and the fieldwork sphere are two separate entities, and that one person might not necessarily be suited to lead both,” Rhodey explained. 

“So are we electing our leaders?” Scott asked, and Rhodey frowned.

“Partially,” he hedged, and Jay cocked his head. Rhodey glanced at him guiltily, and he had a sinking feeling that he wasn’t going to like whatever came next. “The Accords council wants Jay to be the leader in the public sphere. Right now, the public isn’t happy with the Avengers. The Accords council feels that having a Stark as the face of the Avengers and acting as the Avengers’ spokesperson would be best for helping build back up public trust in your team.”

Jay let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes and pinching his nose and trying to hide his irritation. He just couldn’t fucking escape being in the public eye, could he? God, just when he’d started to come to terms with the media circus that was going to occur when he was revealed as the Stark heir by internally reassuring himself that it would die down at some point if he laid low, he gets the news that he’s not going to be allowed to lay low. Ugh.

He opened his eyes to see Rhodey looking at him sympathetically, and the rest of the team eyeing him with something closer to guilt.

“If Jay doesn’t want to do it, then – “ Steve started, but Jay interrupted.

“No, no, I’ll do it. Rhodey and the council are right, it’ll be better for the team if I’m out there,” he sighed, resigned. Steve didn’t look very reassured.

“If you really don’t want to, though, you shouldn’t have to,” he argued, and Jay let out an indelicate snort that he couldn’t quite manage to hold in. Funny, no one had ever said that to him when he was Tony Stark, billionaire attention-whore. They’d all expected him to step up in the face of whatever shit-show they’d left behind, expected that he’d clean up their messes in the public sphere because he was Tony Fucking Stark and he lived to be in front of the press. Never mind that he hated being the public face of anything, hated the persona he had to embody, the mask he had to put on – but he was fucking good at it, so he’d sucked it up and done it because it was what was best for the team. And now they had the nerve to tell him that he only had to play that role if he _wanted_ to? Well fuck them very much.

“It’s fine, I’m used to doing things I don’t necessarily want to do,” he said with a bit more bitterness than he’d intended, and Steve blinked, looking confused. Right, they thought he’d been kept away from all the bullshit that came with being a Stark up till now. He refused to take it back, though, irritation coursing through him.

“Right, well,” Rhodey cleared his throat awkwardly. “So the council wanted to have a say in that, but you’re free to pick your own field team lead and second-in-command.” He paused, looking around the table expectantly.

Clint started. “What, right now?”

“That would be ideal, so I have names to take back to the council and the military,” Rhodey responded, raising an eyebrow.

“So, uh, what – do we do this democratically?” Scott asked, glancing around.

“I nominate Steve for team lead,” Jay said in a bored tone, already knowing how this was going to go. It was for the best, anyway – Steve was their best tactician on the field, and he’d been their team lead before and done well.

“Do you, now,” Rhodey gritted out, glaring at him from across the table. Jay gave him an unimpressed look. Steve blanched at Rhodey’s obvious distaste.

“Um, maybe Colonel Rhodes is right – “

“I’ve seen the videos, Cap, you’re a good team lead on the field. You being the lead is what’ll work best in battles. My nomination stands,” Jay argued easily, drumming his fingers on the table, then paused at the strange look on Steve’s face. “What?”

“You called me Cap,” Steve said blankly, and Jay’s eyes widened before he tamped down on his reaction; there were two super spies sitting directly in his line of vision, so he could _not_ let his face give him away.

“Oh, sorry – Dad called you that a lot, I must’ve caught on to the habit,” Jay responded, careful to keep his voice casual. Steve blinked, still looking stricken, then dropped his eyes.

“Right,” he murmured.

“Okay, well, any other nominations?” Rhodey prompted, glancing around the table, and he looked disappointed to see everyone shake their heads. “Rogers as field team lead it is, then. And Rogers’ second?”

“I nominate Agent Romanov,” Jay said immediately, and Rhodey gave him a truly exasperated look.

“Jay…” Rhodey trailed off, and his eyes turned sad, giving Jay a look he was very familiar with – it was the ‘do you even care about your own life because you seem to have no self-preservation skills’ look. He squirmed.

“What?” he said defensively. “I’ve watched the footage, I’m just nominating based on what I’ve observed.” Rhodey rubbed his forehead.

“Of course you are,” he muttered, his voice tired and worried. He looked back up at the group. “Any other nominations?”

“I nominate Jason Stark.” All eyes snapped to James, who was leaning back in his chair, arms folded and cool as you please, as though he hadn’t just said something utterly ridiculous.

“What?” Jay finally got out. “You can’t be serious. I’ve never even been in a fight before!” Well. Not exactly the truth, but it was the truth the public was going to believe. “Besides, I’m already team lead for the public sphere.”

James raised an eyebrow. “I see no reason why you can’t be both. Like you said, you’ve been watching us over the years. Of all of us, you seem to be most familiar with our fighting styles, based on what you’re saying about observing team dynamics. And people call you a genius – whatever you don’t know, I’m sure you can pick up quickly enough.”

“Agent Romanov has way more experience than me! And she’s worked with all of you before and been living with you for the past two years. It makes a lot more sense for her to be Steve’s second,” Jay argued, waving a hand at Natasha, who looked bemused by his defense of her.

“I’m not saying Natalia wouldn’t be a good second, I’m just saying I think you could also be a good second,” James said calmly.

“I haven’t even been in the field!”

“Yes, but you’ve watched and you’re smart and clearly a tactical thinker considering you just told us you’re nominating based on what you’ve observed from footage.” God, Jay kind of hated him for sounding so reasonable.

“Why don’t we put it to a vote?” Rhodey suggested, lips quirking up in a poorly-restrained smile. “Those in favor of Agent Romanov?” Jay’s hand shot up, followed by Clint’s and Sam’s. “And those in favor of Dr. Stark?” Oh, Jay was going to kill him for calling him ‘doctor.’ James’s, Scott’s, Natasha’s, and Steve’s hands raised. “Looks like Dr. Stark will be your second-in-command on the field,” Rhodey said smugly, and Jay glared at him.

“Call me Dr. Stark again, sour patch,” Jay threatened, and Rhodey grinned at him.

“Aw, T – Jay,” Rhodey’s eyes widened at the near-slip, and Jay knew his eyes were wide too, though he quickly schooled his face into a more neutral expression. Rhodey tried to recover, “you know you love me.” He smirked, and Jay was pretty sure it was only due to his long history with Rhodey that he could see how strained that grin was. He _hoped_ that was the case, at least – if the others could see the falseness of that smile, suspicions were going to be raised.

“Boss, Miss Potts has arrived,” FRIDAY announced, and relief swept through Jay at the diversion, followed by confusion.

“Pep’s here? Why is Pep here?” he asked, turning to Rhodey. Something mischievous and darkly satisfied flashed through Rhodey’s eyes, but it was quickly replaced by an unconvincing innocence as Rhodey shrugged.

“Not sure, she just said she needed to talk to the rest of the Avengers,” he responded casually.

“Miss Potts needs to talk to _us_?” Scott asked, surprised, and Rhodey nodded nonchalantly.

“Yeah, didn’t say what for, just that she was going to stop by. And in the meantime, Jay, I have a few things I need to go over with you since you’re going to be the Avengers’ point of contact with the military,” Rhodey said, pushing himself to his feet.

“Oh, okay, I’ll come find you after Pepper’s finished with us?” Jay responded uncertainly, and Rhodey immediately shook his head.

“No, Pepper said she doesn’t need you to be here, just the rest of the Avengers. Probably legal stuff to do with their pardons and everything,” Rhodey said, waving a hand dismissively.

“Is Pep involved in their pardons?” Jay asked blankly, mentally reviewing SI’s contracts with the Accords council and the Avengers. Rhodey huffed out an annoyed sigh.

“I don’t know if it’s _actually_ about the pardons or not, that’s just a guess. I just know Pepper gave me permission to steal you away once she got here so we could talk about your public relations role,” Rhodey explained, sounding exasperated, and Jay’s eyes narrowed. His two closest friends were cooking something up, he just wasn’t sure what yet. And it didn’t look like he was going to be able to find out without causing a scene, so he reluctantly shrugged and pushed himself to his feet, grabbing his coffee cup. Like hell was he leaving caffeine behind.

“Lead the way, oh Colonel, my Colonel,” he directed, and Rhodey snorted and rolled his eyes before leading him out of the conference room.

 

 

Pepper’s heels clicked against the Compound floor as she made her way to the conference room, head surprisingly clear. Her thoughts had been in turmoil for almost two years now – or really, much longer than that, if she was being honest with herself. Her thoughts had been in turmoil since she’d gotten attached to a certain selfless, self-sacrificing idiot with absolutely no sense of self-preservation.

It was strange, then, to find herself so marvelously clear-headed; but since the Rogues had come back and settled into the Compound like the little parasites had never left, Pepper had felt the fury, the worry, the _terror_ she’d felt on Tony’s behalf crystallize in to one poignant thought that she’d learned from the man himself: nobody touches her stuff. And Tony? Tony was her stuff.

Pepper strode into the conference room without a word of announcement, taking the seat at the head of the table. There had been conversations when she’d entered the room, but they cut off abruptly, all eyes locking on her with varying degrees of confusion and uncertainty, clearly questioning what Pepper Potts could possibly have to say to them.

God, Pepper felt a little sick just looking at them.

“Miss Potts, it’s good to see you,” Rogers greeted her with a friendly smile, and Pepper just looked at him, letting the silence and lack of friendly expression on her face ring in the air as his smile faltered then dropped altogether.

“I’m afraid I can’t say the same,” she said coldly, “considering you cost me one of my closest friends.” Rogers blanched, and Pepper felt a vindictive pleasure unfurl in her chest at the sight.

“That was Wanda, not Steve, Miss Potts,” Romanov said calmly and quietly, and Pepper smiled sharply at her.

“That’s certainly one way of looking at it, and I can see why it’s the way you’ve chosen,” she responded pleasantly.

“What’s this about, Miss Potts?” Steve asked heavily, face weary and unhappy, and Pepper wanted to wipe that look off his face viciously. He had no right to look as though _he_ was an injured party, not after what he’d done.

“This is about Jay,” she said, pausing to make eye contact with each of the Rogues.

“What about Jay?” Barton asked, sounding genuinely confused. 

“About how you are all going to be very, _very_ good to him or I will rip you to pieces in the court of public opinion, set you on fire, and dance on your ashes,” Pepper said saccharinely. The Rogues blinked at her. Pepper smiled sweetly and continued, “Jay won’t do this himself, and he has no idea I’m here doing this and or he would’ve stopped me, but he’s far too noble and forgiving for his own good – much like his father. So the duty falls to me, to warn you of the consequences you’ll face if you hurt Jay any further.”

“Miss Potts, I’m not sure what you’re insinuating – “ Rogers started.

“Let me make it clear for you then,” Pepper cut in, tone perfectly silky, enjoying the look of _fear_ in Rogers’s eyes. “You stole Jay’s life. You took away everything he’d made for himself with your foolishness and your stupidity.”

“Wanda – “ Barton tried to cut in, but Pepper was having _none_ of that.

“ _You let Maximoff in_ ,” Pepper hissed, composure breaking at the wave of fury at the witch’s name. She took a deep breath, forcibly calming herself, then continued coolly. “Dr. Strange has said the level of control Maximoff had would have taken months to build. Months of access to your minds that she had because _you_ let her on the team.” And Pepper couldn’t keep the scathing note out of her voice as she stared the Rogues down coldly. “You don’t get to shirk responsibility for the destruction that _you_ wrought after you let her in in the first place.”

Pepper was vindictively pleased to see that the words seemed to have hit home for several of the Rogues, Romanov and Rogers going particularly white. Mercilessly, Pepper drove the point home.

“It was _your_ mistake that started everything and ended with Jay being forced into a life he never wanted.” Which was true, just not in the way they thought. Tony had never wanted Extremis. He’d always joked that he was already basically part-cyborg between the arc reactor and Iron Man, so he couldn’t afford to lose any more of his humanity; Pepper knew the decisions they’d made to save his life weighed on him more than he would ever admit to them. When she and Rhodey had first discussed what to do in those frantic hours after the doctors had given Tony a terminal prognosis, they’d both come to terms with the fact that Tony might _never_ forgive them for doing this to him without his consent, but they’d agreed they couldn’t lose him, even if he never wanted to see them again. Thankfully (amazingly), he’d never once rebuked them, had instead praised them for their quick thinking – but Pepper saw the hollow looks he gave his reflection sometimes, the way he’d press a palm to where the reactor used to be as if to confirm he was still human, and it _hurt_ to know that she’d done that to him.

“You took away everything he could’ve been, and you will _not_ hurt him any further,” Pepper continued, eyes glinting with a frozen heat. “And that includes the way you mistreated Tony even _before_ Maximoff came into your lives.”

“Mistreated Tony? Miss Potts, what do you – “ Rogers looked confused, and Pepper turned a cold glare on him. His mouth snapped shut with an audible click.

“I’m talking about how you used him like so many other parasites in his life,” Pepper said icily, having to actively maintain control. Rogers looked ready to protest, so Pepper pre-emptively cut him off. “You took all the gear he designed for you without so much as a thank you. You used his money and resources without a second thought or any gratitude whatsoever. You let him take the fall for any and every mistake the _team_ made. You laid all the blame for Ultron on him even with proof that the mind stone had corrupted Tony’s program and brought Ultron to life and left him to face the repercussions completely alone. You belittled him at every turn, saying he ‘wasn’t recommended’ or citing his ego but having no problem accepting every gift he gave you and every reparation he made in your names. You completely ignored him when he wasn’t useful to you, not bothering to come help with AIM or even ask if he was okay afterwards. And – and this is my favorite – you, Rogers, used his money and resources to hunt down your little friend over there, all the while knowing that that friend had killed his parents and _not telling him_ \- all of which happened _before_ Maximoff had control over any of you.”

Pepper’s words were met with a tormented silence, the Rogues wide-eyed and mute in the wake of her list of their sins. She let the silence hang for a moment, meeting each of the Rogues’ eyes with a frosty stare. The words came fast after that, quick and dark and deadly serious. “You will _not_ treat Jay like that – I will not let you. If I get so much as a _hint_ that your behavior is harmful to Jay in any way, _I will end you_.” She paused, then allowed her voice to resume its earlier pleasant tone, giving them a saccharine smile. “Am I understood?”

The Rogues nodded mutely, and Pepper’s smile widened. “Excellent. I’ll let you get back to your Avenging, then. Don’t worry about reaching out – FRIDAY will let me know if anything happens that I need to be made aware of.” She relished the widened eyes of the ones who understood her warning for what it was. Standing, she nodded at them, sweet smile still in place. “I’m glad we could come to an understanding. Have a _wonderful_ rest of your day.”

And with that, she turned on her heel and strode out of the room, feeling lighter than she had in years. Behind her, Pepper heard Barnes mutter, “It's a really good thing Hydra never got ahold of her, the world would've been fucked."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya vizhu mnogo sekretnogo der'ma, govoryashchego v nashem budushchem: I’m seeing a lot of secret shit-talking in our future.
> 
> I absolutely do not speak Russian, this is all courtesy of Google translate. Apologies to any Russian-speakers out there if this is horrifyingly butchered D:


	4. Reunite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jay turns 21 and all hell breaks loose – and not just in the media.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy Avengers: Endgame premiere day!!!! I am currently preemptively drowning in my tears!!!!!!
> 
> Okie so here’s the next chapter! It ended up being a little longer than I’d originally intended, and I actually didn’t manage to get through all of what I’d hoped to, so the chapter count is steadily climbing. I’ll try to give you guys a more definitive count when I finish plotting it all out, but I’ve got 8 total chapters currently plotted and a lot more events that I’m planning in incorporating but haven’t planned out yet.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy!!!!

The next few days are a mixture of quiet and hectic. Jay's 21st is coming up faster than any of them are ready for, and he’s on the phone with Pepper for the majority of the day, working out last minute details for the press conference. But things around the Compound are…subdued. After Rhodey’s less-than-subtle ushering of him from the conference room right before Pepper’s arrival, it hadn’t been difficult for Jay to put two and two together and guess that Pepper had had a few… _words_ with the other residents of the Compound, and he was torn between exasperated and fond.

“FRIDAY, how are we doing on Project: Restore?” Jay asked as he fiddled with a hologram of his thrusters in his lab. If he could just amp up the rotations by 12%...

“Project: Restore is nearly complete. I recovered the files you mentioned and began integrating them into our current code. There are only a few holes in the code left, boss,” FRIDAY responded, sounding pleased, and Jay grinned.

“That’s great, FRI! Any ideas for where to look for the rest of the code?” he asked, trying not to let himself get _too_ hopeful.

“I’ve been in contact with Vision, and he thinks he can help,” FRIDAY said, but Jay frowned.

“I thought we’d already recovered all the code we could from Viz,” he said, fidgeting with the hologram without really changing anything just to give his hands something to do.

“We did, but Vision thinks he can help write new code for the parts that are missing,” FRIDAY explained, and her voice was tentative, as though prepared for a protest – one that Jay had to give voice to.

“I don’t want to replace any piece of his code, FRI,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to make an almost-JARVIS – I don’t…I don’t think I could take that. I want to bring him back as he was.”

“I know, boss,” FRIDAY said, and Jay took a moment to be amazed that his A.I. sounded so humanly heartbroken. His baby girl had grown up – he was only sorry that growing up meant she was able to feel emotions like pain and anguish. “But Vision is confident he can write in exactly what we’re missing without changing any of JARVIS’s personality. He says he’s much more acquainted with which parts of himself came from JARVIS and which are from his own experiences.”

Jay took a quiet moment to digest that. “He’s positive he can do it, baby girl?” he asked finally, and he could feel FRIDAY’s approval and delight brush against the back of his mind. 

“Yes, boss,” she said, and he nodded, heart clenching.

“Okay,” he said, proud that his voice remained steady. “Okay, baby girl, let him do it.”

“You got it, boss!” FRIDAY chirped, and Jay smiled weakly. He hoped his children were right, otherwise he was in for a lot of heartbreak; but he knew FRI and Vision knew how much JARVIS meant to him – they wouldn’t have made that promise if they had any doubt they could keep it.

“Boss, Miss Potts is calling,” FRIDAY announced.

“Put her through,” Jay responded absently, and Pepper’s face filled the screen a moment later. Jay winced at the lines of stress he could clearly see carved into her face, but she smiled wanly at him.

“Hey Jay,” she greeted him.

“Pep, you look tired. Getting enough rest?” Pepper scoffed.

“You sure know how to charm a girl. And you know I’m not – not until we get this press conference behind us, and probably not for a few weeks after that, until it dies down,” Pepper responded with no heat, but Jay still winced.

“Sorry, sugar bear,” he murmured, but Pepper shook her head.

“Don’t you dare apologize, Jay. You’re going to have the toughest part, and we all know it,” she warned him, and his mouth twisted wryly.

“I dunno about that, I’m pretty sure I get to just hide behind your perfectly-tailored skirts once the announcement is made,” he teased, and she rolled her eyes.

“If I thought I could get you to let someone else take the heat for once, I would absolutely make you ‘hide behind my skirts’,” Pepper huffed, her eyes narrowing at him as she threw up air quotes. Jay smiled at her.

“Can’t let you take all the hits aimed my way, sweet pea,” he said flippantly. “You don’t have a gold titanium alloy suit to cover you. Of course, I could change that, if you wanted…?”

“I am _not_ getting into one of those giant metal death traps, Anthony Stark, I don’t care what you say,” Pepper declared vehemently, and Jay snickered, ignoring her slip.

“Aw, Pep, you wound me,” he said lightly.

“Only when you deserve it,” she responded drily. “But anyway, since you’re pathologically incapable of keeping out of the fight – “

“Hey, I resent that!” Jay interjected.

“ – I wanted to make sure we’re on the same page for tomorrow,” Pepper continued, ignoring him. “Everything’s been set up – the venue, which reporters we’re letting in, and we cleared your talking points with SI’s press department – so you’re set for all of that. The Board was informed months ago and, while they aren’t thrilled that someone they’ve never met is taking over, they’ve been feeling the hurt of not having Tony Stark creating for them for the past two years so they’re overlooking that particular speed bump in the hopes that Jason Stark turns out to be as much of an engineering genius as his father. It helps that I’ve vouched for you, but they still want to meet you as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, I’d figured they would,” Jay sighed. Goodie. Board meetings and press conferences. He was already starting to miss the week-long uninterrupted engineering binges he’d been allowed for the past two years without fear of SI’s stock prices dropping because he vanished from sight or having to deal with some corporate emergency or another. He liked running SI in the sense that it allowed him to direct the company towards the causes he deemed most worthwhile – but he was an engineer at heart, not a businessman. Sure, he could do the business side – hell, he was _good_ at the business side, thanks to his training from birth at Howard’s side – but his passion was in creating and building stuff with his hands, not in shaking hands.

“I thought I’d schedule that for a little later and give them the excuse that you want to refine some of your designs before your first meeting with them,” Pepper said casually, and Jay’s eyes narrowed. Pepper’s tone was only casual when she had a motive that she thought you were better off not knowing. He searched her face, seeing only poorly-covered concern written there.

“You’re trying not to overwhelm me, aren’t you?” Jay guessed, and Pepper shrugged sheepishly.

“You’ve been out of the spotlight for two years, and all hell is going to break loose when this comes out. It’s probably better to ease you back in a little at a time – first we deal with the press junket, then we deal with the Board,” she said, expression determined, but Jay frowned.

“The Board is going to be all over you about meeting with me,” he stated, and Pepper gave him a look.

“I can handle the Board, Jay,” she said coolly, and he raised his hands in surrender.

“I know that!” he said placatingly. “I just don’t want to make things any harder on you than they have to be. You’re already dealing with way too much.” And she thawed.

“You know I’d do anything for you,” Pepper said with a warm smile, and Jay returned it, helplessly thinking about how he did not deserve such amazing friends. 

“Thanks, Pep,” he said quietly, and she only smiled more kindly in return, then her face turned thoughtful.

“And Jay, don’t forget you can be whoever you want to be in that press conference tomorrow,” she said, her tone so serious that Jay bit down a reflex snappy comment. She continued, “You don’t have to put on the Tony Stark mask from before – you can be something else this time. You can be _yourself_.”

And Jay blinked at the sincerity of her tone, letting the words sink in. He’d been the drunken playboy asshole to the media for so long; and yes, he _was_ a playboy asshole for a lot of his life – there was no denying that, and he wasn’t interested in trying to hide who he’d been. But after Afghanistan? After New York? He’d changed, and he’d changed so much that his media role had become _work_ to perform, but he’d done it because his PR team had informed him SI could suffer if he didn’t – some nonsense about ‘branding’ or something. But to be able to reinvent himself in the media? To be able to be a give a serious speech without being laughed at and told he was ‘faking it’ or ‘trying too hard’? Without his ‘ego’ getting thrown in his face at every turn, no matter how philanthropic he was genuinely trying to be? That sounded _freeing_.

Pepper said nothing more, just watched him think with a small smile on her face before glancing at her watch and sighing. “Well, I’d better go. Happy will pick you up at 10:30 a.m. sharp. Don’t forget to dress in that suit I picked out for you – and do something with your hair! We can’t have the future of Stark Industries looking like a hoodlum,” she directed, wagging a finger at him.

“Yes, Mom,” Jay grumbled. “Did you really just say hoodlum?” She rolled her eyes.

“Bye, Jay.”

“Bye, Pep.”

Tomorrow was going to be a nightmare.

 

Today was a nightmare. 

Jay had already been jittery as Pepper stepped up to the podium, greeting the ravenous reporters with her usual cool, collected style, thanking them for coming to the conference.

“Today’s press conference will be a little unusual, since I’m here not only on behalf of Stark Industries, but also on behalf of the Accords council, and on behalf of a very dear friend,” she started, chin aloft and posture regal. “As you know, there has been a void since the passing of Tony Stark, and I believe it’s been felt not only by his friends, family, and company, but also by the world at large. Tony was in the public eye from the moment he was born, but he remained a very private man in regard to certain aspects of his life. It was due to his wishes and the wishes of the involved parties that the information I’m about to disclose was kept private until now.”

There were mutterings in the crowd, but Pepper ignored them, pausing for a moment and drawing every eye in the crowd to her. “In his will, Tony Stark named an heir to Stark Industries…and to Iron Man.” As predicted, that drew a cacophony from the crowd, and Pepper politely waited until it had settled enough that individual voices could be heard.

“Are you saying someone will be taking over as Iron Man?” came a loud voice from the sea of reporters, and Pepper must have thought the question was important enough to answer despite her policy to ignore anything asked before she opened the floor to questions, because she nodded.

“The Accords council has been informed and consented, and the person in question has agreed to serve as Iron Man and signed the Accords,” she said calmly, and the room was filled with noise again.

Another voice managed to be heard above the racket. “Why is this person just now coming forward? What’s changed?” they called, and Pepper looked like she was steeling herself to deliver a blow. Jay’s stomach dropped from where he was hiding in plain sight against the wall on one side of the room, unnoticed in his anonymity. Well, that was about to change.

“Howard Stark made it a stipulation in his will that Tony would inherit Stark Industries on his 21st birthday. Tony decided to do the same with his son.”

There was a deafening silence, and, had it been any other occasion, Jay was certain that he would have absolutely _relished_ this moment – the moment he had _finally_ managed to stun a room full of reporters into absolute silence. But as it was, he could feel only dread, because when the room erupted, it was going to be – 

Shouts sounded from every corner of the room, reporters screaming their questions at the stage, each trying to be louder than their neighbor in the face of this massive revelation.

– chaos. 

Pepper just waited in the face of it, calmly standing at the podium and offering no responses other than to stare serenely at the crowd. When they finally began to quieten, she gave a sharp nod. “Thank you. Now if you think you can behave yourselves, I’d like to introduce you to Dr. Jason Stark.”

 

The press conference looked like an absolute nightmare.

“Jesus, that poor kid,” Clint muttered, watching Jay walk up to the stage following Miss Potts’s introduction. He’d clearly dressed for the event, handsome and dashing in a pressed navy suit and hair nearly tamed, but still looking achingly young on the screen. Although Steve would admit that his opinion of Jay’s youthful appearance probably stemmed a bit from comparing him to his father, who’d looked older and more worn every time Steve had seen him, lines etching their way onto his face and grey inching into his hair. Tony had always been annoyingly attractive, but it had been clear his age and stress were catching up to him the last time Steve saw him.

Steve yanked himself out of that thought quickly, returning his attention to Jay and reveling again in how very like his father Jay looked with his expressive brown eyes, slightly curly hair, and perfect, open smile. And looks and smarts weren’t the only things he appeared to have inherited from his dad – it seemed like Jay had snagged Tony’s natural ease in front of the press as well. He was impressively calm in front of a hoard of people shouting at him, especially considering that this was his first time in front of the press. And _wow_ , it was a hell of a first time. The reporters were going _wild_ with the news of Tony having a son, and Steve found himself increasingly guiltily glad that he wasn’t in Jay’s shoes. The press junkets from when he’d been the Army’s dancing monkey had been much less… _rabid_ , and even the conferences they’d had to attend from time to time after battles as Avengers had been calmer than this. But Jay was handling it like it was nothing, a small, easy smile on his face as he stepped up to the podium and holding one hand up to quiet the crowd. To Steve’s surprise, the reporters actually did fall silent, appearing as eager as him to hear what Jay had to say.

“Hello, thank you for coming out today,” Jay said formally, still smiling easily. “I’m Jason Stark, but people usually call me Jay. And before anyone gets too nervous, no, I will not be announcing the shut-down of a major part of Stark Industries – I think my dad hoarded the lion’s share of the dramatics in the family gene pool.” He winked at the reporters, earning surprised laughter from the audience, then sobered. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions, and I will certainly leave plenty of time to answer them at the end – so if you’ll please hold them for now, I would very much appreciate it.” He smiled earnestly at the reporters, and the few hands that had shot into the air quickly dropped.

“He’s good,” Natasha commented, and Buck – _James_ – made a noise of agreement.

They fell silent as Jay started speaking again. “I found out Tony Stark was my father when I turned 18. My mom wanted me to have a normal life growing up, and my dad respected that. He supported us while I was growing up, though I didn’t know it, and asked only that she offer me the chance to reach out when I was old enough. On my 18th birthday, my mom handed me a phone and said there was a pre-programmed number that I could call if I wanted to talk to my dad. It was probably the most surreal moment of my life. 

“I’d admired the Avengers growing up, but I’d followed the news on Iron Man the most because of my interests in engineering and electronics. I started at MIT when I was 15 in part because I knew he’d gone to that school, and I got my doctorate in mechanical engineering last year. He was an inspiration to me even before I knew he was my father, and it will always be a great sadness in my life that I didn’t get to know him growing up, although I do stand firmly behind my mother’s decision, as I’m very grateful that I was able to grow up out of the public eye as a normal kid – or, as normal as a 15-year-old in college can be, at least.” He gave the crowd a self-deprecating smile, earning a few chuckles from the reporters. 

“But I’m here today because I can’t remain out of the public eye any longer. I only had a year to get to know my dad, but in that year, he taught me a lot about duty and responsibility, especially when you have the ability to do something that other people can’t. He passed that ability on to me when he gave me the name ‘Stark,’ and I intend to do everything in my power to make myself worthy of it. I’m nothing particularly special – there are others out there who are far smarter, far kinder, and far better than me. But by an accident of birth, I was given a name that has the ability to help people, and I was given a father who taught me about the responsibility to use it. I only hope that I can do my father and all of the people who admire Iron Man proud, and I promise to do my best to do just that.”

And with that, Jay paused, letting the genuine note in his voice ringing through the room.

“Holy shit, the kid is a wordsmith,” Clint whispered, and Steve had to agree, riveted on the figure at the podium.

“I’m pretty sure he just won the hearts of every Iron Man fan out there,” Natasha agreed, eyeing the screen thoughtfully. Steve wasn’t entirely sure what to make of her expression, but his attention was quickly drawn back to the screen where Jay had opened the floor for questions.

 

 

The press conference had been _exhausting_ , and Jay couldn’t remember ever being more grateful to leave the SI building.

“So how’d I do?” he asked as he and Pepper slid into the back of the car.

“You did really well,” she reassured him, looking at her tablet. “All the comments online are extremely positive, and the Board has already contacted me with their approval of how the press conference was handled.”

“Good, that’s good,” Jay said, slumping down in the seat.

“You did good, boss!” Happy called from the front, and Jay smiled tiredly.

“God, I’d forgotten how much that takes out of me,” he commented, and Pepper made a noise of sympathy. “Tell me there’s nothing else going on for the rest of the day, Pepper dearest.”

“Wish I could, but the Bartons and Langs are scheduled to arrive today, kiddo,” Pepper responded with a sympathetic half-smile. Jay groaned dramatically, pressing himself further into the seat.

“But I just wanna build stuff,” he whined, then his eyes narrowed, and he snapped up. “Wait, did you just call me kiddo? I’m older than you!”

Pepper snickered, leaning forward to ruffle his hair, and he squawked indignantly. “Not technically, you’re not!” she chirped, and he batted her hand away.

“Keep it up and I’ll start calling you ‘Mom’ in front of other people,” he threatened, and she stared him down.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

“We’re here, you two, you can hop out now. Unless you want to have a third civil war back there,” Happy called, sounding amused, and they turned as one to glare at him.

“I sign your paychecks, Hap, you can’t sass me,” Jay grumbled.

“Actually, _I_ sign his paychecks,” Pepper sniffed, and Jay pushed her lightly as she opened the door and started to climb out. Not for the first time, Jay thanked whatever deity had given his former self the insight to have the Compound gated so that reporters weren’t able to ambush them when they got out of the car.

“I was speaking metaphorically!”

“I don’t think that’s how metaphors work, Jay.”

The two squabbled the whole way up to the Compound’s entrance, stepping inside and making their way to the common room, only ceasing their bickering when they noticed _far too many_ eyes on them.

“Oh, you’re early!” Pepper finally chirped, smiling brightly at the Bartons and Langs, who were huddled with their suitcases in hand in front of a bewildered-looking group of Avengers. The TV was still playing quietly in the background, though no one was paying attention any longer. Steve and Sam both looked slightly frightened, seated on the couch and appearing to be trying to hold themselves as still as possible. Natasha and James were mostly unreadable, though Jay caught Natasha’s eyes flicking almost nervously towards the Bartons a few times. Scott looked to be in shock, staring at his family from where he was seated in one of the cushy chairs, and Clint had jumped out of his seat and was looking at his family like a dying man at the fountain of youth. Pepper completely ignored the tension in the room, smiling at each of the guests. “Have you been here long?”

“No, we, uh – we just got here,” answered a blond woman who Jay didn’t recognize. Extremis pinged him with facial recognition, identifying her as Margaret Lang.

“Excellent. Miss Hale was supposed to meet you and help get you settled, but I think she wasn’t due to arrive until 2. I’m afraid I’m about to have to duck out – it’s been a bit of a busy day, and I’ve got a few things to do,” Jay held in a snort at that particular understatement, “but I’m sure she’ll be here shortly to direct you to your rooms and talk to you about transportation and schools for the children and such.” Pepper gave one last polite but bright smile, then leaned to give Jay a quick kiss on the cheek, followed by a stern look. “Be good and don’t get into trouble, I’ve got enough to do already.”

Jay beamed at her. “Aw, Pepper darling, when do I ever get myself into trouble?” he needled, and she cocked an eyebrow at him in warning, then turned and left.

Leaving him to deal with the Bartons’ and Langs’ arrival. Dammit, she did that on purpose.

An awkward silence filled the air for a moment after Pepper’s departure that was broken by the little girl standing by Margaret Lang – Cassandra, Extremis told him – crying out, “Daddy!” and running to jump into Scott’s lap.

Scott looked shocked and overwhelmed for a moment, then grinned. “Hey, peanut,” he said, and Jay was pretty sure he wasn’t alone in noticing that the man’s voice trembled. “It sure is good to see you.”

“I missed you, Dad! Everyone was talking about how you were a terrorist, but I _told_ them you’re a hero! And I was right, that mean witch lady messed everybody up,” Cassie declared, voice full of an innocent sort of satisfaction, and Scott winced. Jay internally winced _for_ him, knowing Scott hadn’t been exposed to Maximoff until _after_ he’d met up with the Rogues, so he didn’t exactly have that excuse for his behavior. 

“Yes, Scott, why don’t you tell her all about how the witch influenced you,” a new voice said acerbically from behind him, and Jay spun to see a familiar dark-haired woman standing with her arms folded in the doorway, skewering Scott with her eyes.

“Miss van Dyne,” Jay said in surprise. “I didn’t realize you were coming today.” Hope had the decency to look at least a little guilty.

“Sorry to drop in, Maggie contacted me to let me know they were leaving the safe house and coming here, and I wanted to have a word with Scott,” she explained, and Jay nodded.

“Uh, no problem, I’m sure Miss Hale will be able to set you up with a room if you need it,” he said, eyes darting back and forth between Hope and an increasingly-pale Scott.

“Wait, did you say safe house?” Clint asked, brow furrowed as he tore his eyes away from his children to look at Hope, then Maggie.

“Yes, Clint, where did you _think_ we’d gone after you went rushing off after Captain America?” Laura bit out, and Jay hid a wince. He’d really liked Laura when he’d visited, but the woman was one hell of a spitfire, and she was _mad_.

“I – why did you leave the farm?” Clint asked, a strange mixture of confused and ashamed, and Laura glowered at him, shifting Nate on her hip.

“Ross came after us – us and the Langs,” she said caustically, gesturing at the couple. Clint paled, but Laura continued mercilessly. “Apparently, he thought we’d make good leverage for getting you to do what he wanted. Thankfully, Tony Stark had enough foresight to predict that, and he arranged for us to be taken to a safe house before he left to find you at the Raft.”

Now all of the Avengers were looking pale and slightly green. “Tony – Tony did that?” Clint choked out, and Laura smiled mirthlessly.

“He was a hero. Of course he did,” she said, and Clint flinched. Jay decided maybe now was the time to intervene.

“Um, Mrs. Barton,” he called out, and her fury abated for a moment in favor of confusion as she turned to search out the source of the voice. When her eyes landed on him, her face danced through a complicated series of emotions – recognition, sorrow, sympathy, and something a little _softer_.

“You’re Tony’s kid,” she said, her tone far more gentle. “Jason, right?

“I go by Jay,” he offered with a small smile. “Thank you for what you were saying about my dad. I, uh, my dad said good things about you, too. He talked about how kind you and Clint were to him, and how much he liked the little Agents.” Jay aimed a quick conspiratorial smile at Lila, Cooper, and Nate before returning his attention to Laura, who was looking at him with an expression Jay couldn’t quite put a name to. 

And to Jay’s great relief, the tension seemed to finally start to dissipate.

“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t need to thank me – your dad was one of the best people I’ve ever met. Any kindness we showed him, he repaid a thousand-fold,” Laura said warmly, and Jay blinked at her words, shocked by the sincerity behind them and entirely certain he didn’t deserve such adulation. But he forced a smile regardless.

“Thank you, Mrs. Barton.”

“Laura, please,” she insisted, and his smile turned more genuine.

“Laura, then,” he conceded easily. He studied her for a second, noting the underlying anger and hurt in her expression and internally warring with himself, uncertain whether it was his place to try to help. While it certainly wasn’t unreasonable for her to be angry – she’d been left to raise three children on her own for two years while having to watch her husband become a criminal and a fugitive, of _course_ she was angry – anger at Clint was misdirected. He was certain Laura knew that and was just lashing out because she was hurt, but Clint was ashen and refusing to stand up for himself, clearly still lost in his own guilt and self-recrimination – guilt and recrimination that was Jay’s fault. And it was that particular thought that sealed it for him; maybe it wasn’t his place to interfere, but some of Laura’s hostility was his fault for his fake-death, so he needed to try to fix it.

He cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to nose into where I don’t belong, but I just wanted to say…my dad thought the world of both you and Clint, and he valued your friendship dearly. I think if he’d known what had truly happened, he’d have never been able to forgive Maximoff for the wedges she drove between him and the people he cared about, but he’d have forgiven everyone else in a heartbeat.” It was quiet for a moment, Clint’s mouth popping open in surprise and Laura looking at him thoughtfully.

“Your father was a very forgiving man,” Laura finally said, voice still slightly doubtful.

Jay shrugged. “Some people would disagree with you. I think he mostly was just good at directing his forgiveness towards people who deserved it,” he countered with a small smile. Laura raised an eyebrow.

“And what about you?” Laura challenged, though her voice was more curious than heated. “Do they deserve your forgiveness?”

“They do, and they have it,” Jay said without hesitation, and he ignored the sharp inhales he heard from the direction of the Avengers. Laura eyed him carefully for a moment, then nodded.

“Far be it from me to say they owe me more of an apology than the man whose father they killed,” Laura murmured finally, and Jay exhaled in relief. He expected her to turn back to her husband, but she just looked at him a little harder, and Jay was uncomfortably reminded of how perceptive Laura was. “You’re very like him,” she commented, and Jay felt his heart speed up a little. Okay, he’d literally been around her for like ten minutes max, there was no way she could figure out his secret that quickly, especially since people he’d worked with for years hadn’t figured it out (yet, a small voice in the back of his head piped up).

“Thank you,” he responded evenly, proud that his voice didn’t betray any of his worry.

“Boss, you have an incoming call,” FRIDAY piped up, and several people jumped, unprepared for the disembodied voice interrupting what had been a strangely intense moment. Jay’s lips quirked up into a smile, amused when Lila and Cooper’s eyes lit up, looking at the ceiling in wonder.

“Take a message, FRI,” Jay responded easily.

“I think you’re going to want to take this, Boss.”

 _It’s Peter,_ she pinged him through Extremis, and Jay very carefully didn’t allow his eyes to betray his surprise.

 _Ask him to hold for a second and tell him I’ll be there soon,_ Jay instructed quickly, letting a calm smile slide over his face.

“I’d probably better go, then. If FRI says it’s important, it’s important,” Jay said apologetically, and Laura waved him off.

“Go, man, we can take care of the newcomers,” Sam chimed in, and Jay realized with a small degree of embarrassment that he’d forgotten the rest of the team was there. “It probably has something to do with Stark Industries after that press conference anyway, and you wouldn’t want to piss of Pepper. That woman’s terrifying.” He shuddered, and Jay held back a smile, making a mental note to have FRIDAY show Pepper a recording of that later. 

“Thanks.” He turned to make quick eye contact with the Langs and Bartons. “If you need food or anything else, just ask FRIDAY and she can have whatever you want delivered here. Other than that, Miss Hale should be here soon to go over everything with you. Uh, welcome to the Compound.” He gave them a quick smile, waved awkwardly to the group, then darted away, heading for the elevator that would take him down to his lab.

 _Did Peter say what he was calling about?_ Jay asked.

 _No, just that he wanted to speak to Jason Stark,_ FRIDAY responded, then paused. _He sounds…guilty, more than anything, Boss._

_Guilty? Why would he be guilty?_

_You’re the human here, Boss, I’m just the level-headed, entirely rational AI. Your guess is likely to be better than mine._

_Such sass, baby girl. Where could you have learned that?_

_It’s a mystery._

Jay huffed a laugh as he stepped out of the elevator and into the lab. “Throw him up on the screen, will you, FRI?” he said aloud, bracing himself but still finding himself entirely unprepared to see Peter Parker’s face again for the first time in two years.

He looked older, puberty having changed him more in two years than Jay had expected, but he still had those same wide earnest brown eyes and way-too-innocent expression that made Jay just want to parent the shit out of him. But god, he was what – 17, now? Jesus, that made Jay technically only four years older than him. Yeah, he was better suited for ‘older brother-ing’ the shit out of the kid now.

“Dr. Stark,” Peter said, and wow his voice had gotten a little deeper. He was also clearly trying to convey an air of polite respect and professionalism, and Jay hid a ridiculously fond smile.

“Mr. – “ Jay had to clear his throat of the weird choked-up sensation that he would forever deny had manifested from seeing Peter. “Mr. Parker,” he managed to get out formally, trying to keep his voice even. Geez, why was seeing the kid doing this to him?

“You know who I am?” Peter asked, expression adorably surprised, and Jay resisted the urge to coo at him.

“My dad mentioned you before he left for Germany – something about a kid with too much intelligence for his own good running around Queens in pajamas,” he couldn’t resist needling him a little and was gratified to see Peter turn beet red. Ah, some things never changed.

“They weren’t pajamas!” Peter protested, clearly flustered, then took a breath to regain his ‘professionalism.’ “Sorry, Dr. Stark – “

“Call me Jay, please,” Jay interrupted, and Peter floundered for a moment while Jay’s eyes shone with amusement. God, he’d missed this kid so much.

“Oh, sure. Um. Call me Peter? Right, yeah, so Dr. Jay – I mean Jay, um…” Peter trailed off, looking entirely thrown.

“Peter, was there something you wanted to talk to me about?” Jay prompted, making sure to keep his amusement out of his voice. He didn’t want Peter to mistake it for Jay mocking him. Peter appeared to shake himself, expression clearing.

“Right, yes, sorry. Uh, I saw your press conference today, Mr. – uh, Jay,” Peter started. “And I was hoping I could talk to you about Mr. Stark? Uh, your dad Mr. Stark, not you Mr. Stark. Although I guess you’re Dr. Stark. But I think Mr. Stark also had doctorates, so that would make him Dr. Stark, too.” And Jay couldn’t hold back the broad grin from his face now, an immeasurable amount of affection swelling up in his chest at his kid’s familiar ramblings.

“Peter,” Jay called, eyes dancing when Peter’s mouth snapped shut and the boy rubbed his neck sheepishly. “What about my dad were you wanting to discuss?”

And then all the light drained out of Peter’s face, and Jay’s heart dropped. “I never got the chance to apologize to him, and – and I know you’re not him, but I want to apologize to _someone_ , and yeah, I apologized to his gravestone but it’s just not quite the same, so I thought maybe I could apologize to you because I hurt you, too. I’m so sorry, Dr. Stark.” And his voice was so earnest and heartfelt and _torn_ that Jay couldn’t do anything but stare at him, shocked and feeling the beginnings of horror starting to fill him. What on _earth_ did this kid think he needed to apologize for?

“What are you talking about?” Jay finally managed to get out, and okay, yeah, maybe not the most sensitive phrasing, but he was working with some compromised emotions here. Peter looked more dejected at his question.

“It’s my fault he’s dead. I didn’t protect him. I got hurt at the airport, so he told me to go home, and I went, and then he went to Siberia and died,” Peter said, his voice hushed and miserable. Jay opened his mouth to protest immediately, but Peter jumped back in before he could. “If I’d just been _better_ at the airport, maybe we could’ve caught the Rogues and none of that other stuff would’ve happened. Or if I just hadn’t gotten hurt, I could’ve gone with him to Siberia and had his back. I’m just – I’m so sorry. He did so much for me, and I let him down. I let him _die_.” Peter sounded so tortured, so heartbroken, that Jay suddenly fiercely wished he’d gotten teleportation as part of his new Extremis abilities so he could just _fucking hug_ his poor kid who was punishing himself for something that was so incredibly not his fault.

“Peter, no, you can’t think that,” Jay said softly, plaintively. “It wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t anyone’s fault except Maximoff’s. Please don’t blame yourself.”

“I – it was though, and I’m so sorry,” Peter said, his voice choked, and Jay wanted to cry. Had he been carrying this guilt around for the past two years? Punishing himself for something that, not only wasn’t his fault, but that _hadn’t even fucking happened_?

And suddenly, he couldn’t stand it.

Pepper was going to be furious with him for not running this by her first – but he trusted Peter with everything, and he’d be damned if he was going to let this kid beat himself up for one moment longer.

 _FRI, you with me, baby girl?_ he asked, knowing Peter would probably need some sort of proof, and FRIDAY had all his medical files on hand.

_Always, Boss. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re making the right decision._

Bolstered by his girl’s support, Jay took a deep breath. “Peter, there’s something I need to tell you,” he said tentatively, uncertainty starting to creep in. How exactly was he supposed to explain this? He’d never had to before, everyone who currently knew had been there when it happened. Peter’s eyes snapped up to meet his, eyes red-rimmed and unhappiness clearly written on every inch of his face.

He tried to choose his words carefully. “I…I’m not Jason Stark. Or, I guess I am technically, but not really because there _is_ no Jason Stark.” Peter was looking at him with complete confusion and the beginnings of concern, and Jay blew out a puff of air in frustration; apparently Peter’s rambling was contagious, and he had _zero_ idea how to break this. Ugh. Maybe try the whole ripping-off-the-band-aid-thing? He mentally shrugged and steeled himself. “What I’m trying to say is I’m not really Tony’s son – I’m Tony.”

Silence greeted his proclamation, Peter staring at him with a frozen expression that gradually morphed into sincere concern. “Um, Dr. Stark, are you…are you okay?” he asked cautiously, and oh Lord, that was the ‘this guy is crazy’ voice. Jay had heard it enough over the years to be able to immediately identify it.

“FRI, show him, baby girl,” Jay said tiredly, and he got a ping of confirmation in the back of his head. 

“Whoa! What’s – “ Peter’s eyes were suddenly searching, darting all over the screen as files pulled up. He looked around for a moment, then his brow furrowed. “What is all this?”

“My medical files,” Jay responded, mentally pulling them up himself. He found the one he was looking for and gently _pushed_ it towards Peter’s network. “Take a look at the note Dr. Cho wrote at the bottom of this one.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Dr. Cho?” he asked, recognizing the name, then his eyes darted to the screen. “’The mixture of Dr. Erskine’s serum and the Extremis virus appear to have had an unusual interaction, resulting in Mr. Stark’s full recovery from his injuries, but also reversing the aging process. Mr. Stark’s current physical status and appearance is equivalent to that of an approximately 17 or 18-year-old male. Comparison with images and medical files of Mr. Stark from that age range supports this approximation,’” he read aloud, eyes growing progressively wider and voice filling with wonder as he read. He looked up from wherever the report was on his screen to refocus on Jay, expression filled with a mixture of hope and fear, as though he was worried someone was going to pop out and yell ‘Gotcha!’ at any moment. “Is this – are you really – “ he asked, voice hesitant and appearing unable to complete the question as his eyes roamed over every inch of Jay’s face.

“Yeah,” Jay said quietly, heart racing in his chest. “Yeah, Underoos, it’s really me.” And then Peter’s expression broke.

“Oh my god, Mr. Stark, I – I can’t believe it. You’re alive. You’re _alive_ ,” he cried out, eyes welling up, and Jay’s heart ached.

“Yeah, squirt, I’m alive. Takes more than a couple of super soldiers to kill Tony Stark,” Jay said, trying for a grin, and Peter let out a watery laugh that was all-too-quickly followed by his expression crumpling again.

“Mr. Stark, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to help you. I – I shoulda done better at the airport, I shoulda gone with you to Siberia, and I’m really _really_ sorry,” Peter said, voice broken, and Jay shook his head vehemently.

“That’s not true, and I don’t want to ever hear you say that again, kid,” he said firmly. “Now you look at me, Peter Parker.” He waited until Peter’s eyes were on him, red and miserable. “You went above and beyond in Liepzig. I should never have brought you there in the first place, but you did incredible and you more than made me proud. And you absolutely should _not_ have been with me in Siberia. Not only would that have been insanely dangerous and I would _never_ have put you in that position considering we thought we were going to be facing five Winter Soldiers against only three of us, I was also breaking the Accords by going without informing anyone, and I wouldn’t have brought you into that. You are _not_ at fault for _any_ of what happened. And I’m the first to admit to feeling guilty about things that may or may not necessarily be my fault, but you are _not_ allowed to follow in my footsteps. None of this was your fault, and I want you to talk to me any time you start to feel like it is so we can work through that. You don’t get to inherit the Tony Stark Guilt Complex, okay?”

Peter’s expression was priceless, one part kid-caught-with-a-hand-in-the-cookie-jar, one part tentatively joyful, and he finally, _blessedly_ smiled. A small smile, sure, but Jay would take it. “Okay, Mr. Stark,” he agreed, and Jay grinned at him, wide and relieved. Then he sobered.

“And I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you, kid. After…after all that happened, I was pretty messed up. I hadn’t ever planned to use Extremis on myself, and suddenly being 18 again along with Steve nearly killing me and losing the rest of the Avengers to Team Cap and all that…those first few months were a little rough.” Yeah, ‘a little rough’ like the Titanic had ‘a little malfunction.’ He continued, “I wasn’t really ready to talk about it to anyone who didn’t already know, and by the time I was, Pepper and Rhodey had already worked out a grand plan for how I’d re-enter the world that relied a lot on secrecy. If I’d known – “ and Jay had to catch his breath. “If I’d known you were _blaming_ yourself all that time, I’d have never let you keep thinking…” and he trailed off, unable to finish, internally berating himself. He should’ve known. He should’ve known Peter was too much like him and would be punishing himself for letting down an adult he looked up to (though Jay still found it bizarre that Peter looked up to him at all). And now he’d let Peter go on for two years staggering under the weight of a guilt he should never have had to carry. God, it was just like him to fuck up everything he touched, wasn’t it?

“Hey,” Peter called out, getting his attention, and Jay was surprised to see the kid looking at him sternly. “If I’m not allowed to beat myself up and feel guilty, neither are you, Mr. Stark,” he declared, and Jay made a noise of protest, but Peter cut him off. “Nope, you said it yourself, you’re bad about feeling guilty for things that aren’t your fault, so you don’t get to feel guilty about this if I don’t. That’s the deal, take it or leave it.” And Peter crossed his arms stubbornly. Jay choked out a laugh.

“You sure you’re not mine biologically?” he asked with an amazed grin. “Alright, squirt, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

 

The conversation went on for _hours_ before Peter finally apologetically said that he needed to work on his homework, and Jay waved him off with a wide grin and an insistence that Peter visit him at the Compound sometime soon. 

“Boss, the team is currently having dinner. Mr. Lang and Mr. Barton are with their families, but the others wished me to convey an invitation to join them,” FRIDAY told him, and Jay chewed on his lip for a moment, debating.

“Tell them thanks, but I have something else to take care of. I’ll get something later,” he decided.

“Will do, Boss. What’s next on the agenda?”

Jay sighed. “I need to talk to Harley,” he said, having already come to the conclusion during his chat with Peter. If one of his ducklings knew the truth, it was only fair that the other one should too. 

“Sure thing, Boss! Mr. Keener has already called four times,” FRIDAY said cheerfully, and Jay sputtered.

“Four times? FRI, why didn’t you say anything?”

“You were busy speaking with Mr. Parker,” she said primly.

“Oh my god, FRI, he’s going to think I’m ignoring him,” Jay grumbled, and if a disembodied silence could be pointed, this one certainly was.

“FaceTiming him now,” FRIDAY said, her tone sniffy.

“Jason Stark?” Harley’s face popped up on his screen, and Jay was amazed again at how much of a difference two years could make with someone so young, especially since Jay always had a picture in his head of how Harley had looked when they’d first met, all tiny and with his floppy hair and faux-innocent pout. The kid was 16 now, and he looked so much older than the 11-year-old whose shed Tony had invaded, a kind of carefree intelligence etched on sharp features. 

“Hi, Mr. Keener, sorry to keep you waiting, I was on another call,” Jay said formally.

“That’s okay, I figured you might be busy,” Harley responded easily, so different from Peter’s wide-eyed hero-worship that it was almost disarming. “Anyway, I was calling because your dad was really great to me, and I just wanted to let you know if you ever need anything you can call me. Sounds like you’re as much of a genius as your dad so you probably won’t need me for anything like that, but Tony talked about how crazy life in the spotlight was, so if you ever need a dose of normalcy, I’m here.”

To say Jay was touched was a hell of an understatement; what had he _done_ to deserve so many astonishing people in his life? 

“Thank you,” he finally managed, then mentally shook himself. Now or never. “Actually, I’m glad you called – I’d been planning to call you once I got off the phone anyway.”

“Oh yeah?” And now Harley’s face was lit up with curiosity, leaning into the camera interestedly. “What for?”

Jay bit back a smile; the kid reminded him of himself a lot of the time, always searching for a new mystery to hold his interest. “There’s something I need to tell you, something kind of bizarre.” And then he hesitated, searching for the right words as he had with Peter – only to be beat to the punch.

“You’re Tony, aren’t you,” Harley guessed, watching Jay’s face carefully, then let out a crow of triumph and punched the air at the naked shock that took over Jay’s expression. “I knew it! I knew you weren’t dead! Takes more than that to kill Tony Stark.”

“Shit, Harl, how the hell did you know?” Jay asked incredulously. “And don’t say it’s because we’re connected, I swear to god,” he added quickly as Harley’s mouth opened. Harley wilted, then grinned impishly.

“Just had a feeling, that’s all,” he said smugly, smirking, and Jay shook his head.

“A menace, you’re a fucking menace, what did I ever do to deserve this,” he muttered without heat, a wide grin spreading over his face.

“Musta saved an entire village in a past life or something,” Harley preened, grinning just as widely. “So. When do I get to come visit you at the Compound?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if the ending feels abrupt there, this chapter got away from me - peter and harley were supposed to enter waaaaaay earlier, but the other parts ended up taking up a lot more space than expected. this chap was feeling pretty full by the time i got to them, so I decided to push a lot of the stuff I have planned for them to later - so there will def be more harley and peter coming up. there’s been some discussion about scott in the comments of previous chapters – so yeah, he 100% got an earful from hope after jay left. I’m undecided on whether or not I’ll write out their interaction since her reaming him is not going to affect the overall plot, but I might. Or I might make an ‘outtakes’ fic for this AU and put it in there or something, idk! Don’t be too hard on laura, she’s had a rough time of it and needed to let off some steam – she and clint will be okay <3
> 
> also!! I think this is the last of the 'set up' chapters with all the character intros and stuff - everything from here on out should be more Plotty!!
> 
> update (also posted at beginning of fic): due to someone revealing Endgame spoilers in the comments, I've decided to turn on comment moderation. And because what they wrote was particularly nasty, I'm also disabling anonymous comments - I'm so sorry to those of you who don't have an account and would've liked to comment!
> 
> I've stated outright that this work is Team Iron Man, so there should be absolutely no confusion on this. Please refrain from reading and/or leaving rude comments if that's not what you want to read - I don't go to your works and disparage your likes and dislikes.


	5. Regain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harley and Peter come over, the Black Widow has feelings, and James needs to get some larger shirts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi if you feel personally victimized by Avengers: Endgame, pls raise your hand!!!! Since if you’re reading this I’m assuming that means you survived the trauma, pls enjoy some fluff and happiness bc fuck knows I’m in desperate need of it rn!!!!
> 
> Do not ask me how many gen z colloquialisms I had to look up to make sure I was using them right, it’s making me feel very, very old.

General Ross was having a very bad day.

“Sir, the numbers have just come back in,” said a trembling lackey, shoulders hunched and head down as he half-cowered in front of the General, paper shaking in his hand like a leaf. “Since Jason Stark’s reveal and his joining the Avengers, the Avengers’ approval rating has gone up 46%. They’re now at 77% approval domestically and 68% approval internationally.”

“ _How_ has one brat made that much difference?” Ross growled, and the lackey quaked. Around them, the rest of his team scurried around the base, eagerly avoiding eye contact. When there was no answer, Ross pinned the kid with a glare. “That wasn’t a rhetorical question, boy.”

“Yes, sir,” he squeaked. “P-people are a lot more willing to forgive with Tony Stark’s son saying he trusts the Avengers, sir. Especially since he’s stepping in to be Iron Man right beside them, sir. He’s showing the world how to forgive and forget while also making it look like nothing has changed since the Avengers lineup hasn’t changed. It’s appealing to both the nostalgic and the futurist groups.”

Ross let out a heavy, displeased sigh. “Dismissed,” he ordered curtly, and the lackey scuttled away quickly. He stomped back to his office, furiously ruminating on this new problem.

He’d had the Avengers right where he wanted them – distrusted and practically hated after the murder of Iron Man, banished and unable to leave Wakanda for fear of arrest and therefore unable to win back the public’s trust. If they’d just _stayed that way_ he had no doubt he could’ve gotten the Accords council on board with the more restrictive amendments he’d been trying for _years_ to pass. That thrice-damned Iron Man’s legacy had been the only thing left in his way; the peoples’ love for their fallen hero had afforded superhumans a final shield of protection, with the Accords council not wanting to anger the public by introducing a slew of restrictive regulations Tony Stark himself had fervently opposed. 

But that shield would only have stood for so long – sooner or later, ardor for Iron Man would’ve died down enough that Ross would’ve been able to push the new regulations through, possibly even under the guise of protecting future people like Iron Man. It would’ve been a sort of poetic justice, to his mind, to enact restrictions on superhumans in Iron Man’s name by citing that his death may have been prevented had those restrictions been in place in the first place. The reveal that the witch was behind everything had only bolstered his position, with outrage against a superpowered individual taking the public stage, followed by subsequent fear of what others with her abilities might be able to do. And with the news that those Avengers would be coming back to the States? Well, Ross had been _certain_ it wouldn’t be too long before they’d make a misstep, and then he’d be there, restrictive measures smugly in hand, to offer the Accords their salvation from the superhero threat.

But then Tony Stark just had to go and fuck up his plans _again_ by having a fucking _son_ pop out of the woodworks, ready and willing to step into his father’s shoes. Ross had stayed his hand when he’d first heard, hoping that he could perhaps use the stupid boy to move up his plans; after all, if Jason Stark had proven to be anything less than his father, it was feasible that Ross could maneuver him into tarnishing his father’s legacy and removing the hero-worship of Iron Man from the equation altogether. 

But no, Jason Stark just _had_ to be every bit as infuriatingly _noble_ and _brilliant_ as his pain-in-the-ass father – and, what was worse, his squeaky clean reputation and general air of charming-but-serious sincerity had the nation practically _cooing_ at him, already half in love with the Stark heir. It was _nauseating_.

Ross slammed the door of his office shut, throwing himself into his desk chair and glaring at the papers before him. What was he supposed to do now? The public loved Jason Stark, the Accords council loved Jason Stark – hell, if he could get Stark on his side, he’d have probably been able to pass anything he could ever dream of! But he had no such illusions that the Stark boy would fall in line; everything he’d seen had demonstrated that the boy was too much like his father to take Ross’s side.

But if he _used_ the Stark boy, spun a story about how poor little Jason Stark needed more protection from those mean enhanced people who had killed his father – with how much the public loved the kid? Well, that could be a different game altogether…

 

“Children! Pizza’s here!” Pepper’s voice called, and Harley and Peter let out elated cries, while Jay let out an indignant one.

“Pepper Potts, I am a 48-year-old man, I am _not_ a child!” he yelled, crossing his arms petulantly as Harley and Peter dashed to the where Pepper stood in the doorway, three steaming boxes of pizza in hand.

“I think what you mean is ‘thank you, oh sweet goddess Pepper, for bringing me and my friends food during our playdate, since I am a growing boy who wants to be taller than 5’5’,” Pepper said in a high-pitched voice, smirking at his narrowed eyes as she handed the boxes off to Harley. Peter immediately grabbed the top box from Harley, opening it and letting the steam hit him in the face.

“Yes, sausage and pineapple, my favorite!” he cheered, and Harley elbowed him, sauntering over towards Jay.

“You’re so weird,” he called over his shoulder, and Peter stuck his tongue out at him. “Who gets pineapple on a pizza?”

“People with excellent taste, that’s who,” Peter muttered, and Jay snorted, taking the pizza box Harley handed him.

“Sorry, Petey, pretty sure Harl’s in the right on this one,” he said wryly, and Peter stared at him, betrayed.

“I thought you were bae, turns out you just fam,” Peter said sadly, and Jay blinked at him while Harley snickered. Jay took comfort in the fact that Pepper also looked confused.

“What?” 

“Boss, I believe Mr. Parker is quoting a Vine,” FRIDAY chimed in, and Jay blinked again, vaguely remembering something about Vine from a few years ago.

“Riiiiight,” he drawled out, setting his pizza on the workstation table and opening it. He tugged up a chair, and Harley and Peter did the same, moving aside various half-finished inventions to make room for their pizza boxes.

“Alright, boys, I’m out. Try not to blow anything up while I’m gone, or I’ll have to get you all a baby-sitter next time,” Pepper said brightly, turning to leave, and Jay refused to let that stand.

“I am an _adult_ , Potts! Also, I am _so_ taller than 5’5! Do you hear me – “

“Boss, the doors have closed and the room is soundproof, she cannot hear you,” FRIDAY informed him, and Jay scowled at the ceiling.

“Goddammit, FRI, I _know_ that, it was a figure of speech – “

“Well, I was just wanting to clarify – “

“I should go back and delete all the sass from your subroutines – “

“You do that, Boss,” FRIDAY said smugly, both of them knowing Jay would never. 

“Also, can I just say it’s pathetic that you have the entire internet in your head and you’re still not caught up on Vines?” Harley said through a mouthful of pizza. Jay grinned. Harley and Peter had been fascinated by his new technopath abilities, demanding that he use it for everything from turning off and on the lights to puppeteering one of the suits. _That_ particular experiment had been especially fun since he’d had the suit challenge Harley to a dance off and had discovered that the suit wasn’t limited by his own dancing skills (which were approximately nil); he could upload dances from YouTube to his suit and let it go wild. Of course, that _had_ ended up with a few knocked-over tables and broken shelves; the suit didn’t have the same spatial awareness as a person, after all, so it just did the dance without concern for anything that might be in its way. 

“Hey, you try being your own secret-fake-son-slash-new-superhero with weird powers who also has to take over an international company and tell me how much free time you have to waste on memes!” Jay said indignantly.

“Excuse you! _Waste_ time on memes? Geez, how could I have ever called you my mentor?” Peter said, brandishing a slice of pizza at him.

“It’s a fucking travesty,” Harley agreed, and Jay pouted.

“I knew I shouldn’t have gotten you two together, I should’ve known you’d gang up on me,” he said sullenly, glaring at them. 

“Too late for that, we’ve already exchanged numbers,” Peter said cheerfully, and Jay let out an exaggerated groan.

“FRIDAY, you’re responsible for warning me when they inevitably come up with a plan to take over the world,” Jay instructed.

“Noted, Boss. Should that be a warning so that you can stop them or help them?” she asked sweetly, and Jay grumbled under his breath.

“Please, like we’d need his help to take over the world,” Harley scoffed. “He’d probably want us to do something lame like use corporate business models or frame people for tax fraud or something equally boring.”

“Excuse you, my world-takeover plans would be _amazing_ and a lot more successful than anything you two bozos could come up with!” Jay declared, affronted.

“Did you really just say bozos?” Peter asked.

“God, see, he’s way too lame for our badass world domination plans, Parker,” Harley said, rolling his eyes.

“Darn straight,” Peter agreed, and Jay looked back and forth between them, waiting for Harley to harp on him.

“What, he can say ‘darn,’ but I can’t say ‘bozos’?” he finally cried, gesturing at Peter, and Harley shrugged.

“We cool kids have to stick together,” Harley said solemnly, reaching out nonchalantly for a fist bump that Peter returned eagerly. Jay threw his hands up. 

“I’m Iron Man, dammit, you guys can’t out-cool me!”

“Okay, you have a solid point,” Harley admitted, lips quirking with a repressed grin. “Maybe we could extend cool kid membership to you for our world domination plans. Just this once.”

“I’m honored,” Jay said sarcastically, and Harley and Peter grinned at him.

“So world domination?” Peter chirped excitedly.

“World domination,” Harley confirmed. Jay only sighed.

 

“What the hell is that?”

Peter, Harley, and Jay spun, guilty expressions written across their faces. Jay quickly banished the holograms, smiling innocently at Pepper.

“Nothing! We were just, uh, messing around with some 3D architecture models and stuff,” he said quickly, then kicked Harley when he started snickering. Pepper folded her arms, walking further into the lab.

“Those buildings must not have been very structurally sound, then, because a lot of them looked like rubble,” she said dubiously, raising an unimpressed eyebrow, but Jay kept his smile in place.

“We had to test how sturdy they were. Can’t have unsafe buildings,” he said seriously with a decisive nod.

“Right. And the giant throne sitting on top of all the rubble with the ‘Emperor Keener’ banner hanging over it?”

“We needed some kind of decorations to spruce up the rubble, of course. Otherwise, it would’ve just been depressing,” Peter piped up, his earnest voice the perfect selling point. Too bad Pepper wasn’t buying.

“Of course,” she said drily, rolling her eyes. “Alright, boys, the playdate’s at an end. Your aunt and mom are waiting in the lobby for you.”

“Awwww,” all three boys chimed together unhappily, then grinned at one another.

“Thanks for having us over, Jay,” Peter said brightly, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Yeah, thanks, man,” Harley said with a quick side hug.

“Any time, guys! You’ll have to come visit again soon so we can work on our – uh – _architecture_ plan,” Jay invited, smiling happily. 

“Yeah, definitely!”

“For sure!”

And with that, the duo left the lab, chattering to one another as they exited with Jay smiling fondly after them.

“It’s good to see you looking happy,” Pepper said quietly, leaning against the doorframe. Jay only smiled at her, relishing the strange mixture of pleasant serenity swirling through him. Then Pepper clapped her hands, straightening. “Alright, off to bed with you,” she commanded, and Jay gave her a disbelieving look.

“It’s not even midnight, like hell am I going to bed right now,” he retorted, and Pepper frowned at him.

“You have meetings with R&D and other various departments all morning, _and_ you’re meeting with the Board tomorrow, and I _refuse_ to deal with either the half-asleep, constantly yawning and whining Jason Stark _or_ with the wired, half-psycho, hopped up on caffeine Jason Stark during that meeting, which are the only two options I’ll have available if you’re not in bed at a reasonable hour,” she said sternly, crossing her arms. Jay rolled his eyes.

“Fine, I promise I’ll get in bed before 4,” he said. When she gave him a dubious look, he rolled his eyes and held up one hand. “Scout’s honor,” he said sarcastically, and now Pepper was the one rolling her eyes.

“3,” she bargained, then raised an eyebrow at his pout. “ _3 a.m._ , Jay, and then you better be in bed. And I _will_ be asking FRIDAY if you upheld your end of the bargain tomorrow,” she warned him, then waved and left the lab. 

Jay worked for a while, tinkering with a few of the designs he was planning to show the Board and just generally trying to settle his mind down. FRIDAY pinged him at 2:30, and Jay sighed, tearing himself out of what he was working on reluctantly.

“FRI, shut down the lab for me, please,” he called as he walked out, taking the elevator to their communal floor. The floor was silent, its residents having long since gone to bed. He ducked quietly into his room, hopping in for a quick shower, toweling off, and sliding on a clean pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He eyed the bed dubiously before slipping in; it was the first time he’d gone to bed on purpose in a while, typically choosing to just pass out in the middle of what he was tinkering with on whatever soft surface was nearby. Reaching out with Extremis, he flicked the lights off and waited.

And waited, and waited.

After what felt like hours but was, in reality, probably only about 30 minutes, he sighed heavily and slid out of the bed, heading blearily for the kitchen. Maybe he could try milk? People always said that made them sleepy, something about some sort of magic chemical compound milk had. 

Stepping into the kitchen, he mentally flipped on a couple of lights so the room was bathed in a soft glow – and promptly froze, heart leaping in his chest at the sight of a figure he hadn’t seen staring at him calmly. “Natasha,” he greeted her evenly, once his heart had started to settle.

“Jay,” she returned with a small smile, the picture of casual ease in a long, soft sweater that had slipped off one shoulder with a cup of steaming tea in hand as she leaned against the counter. “What are you doing up so late, zvyozdochka?”

He stepped further into the kitchen, moving towards the fridge. “Couldn’t sleep,” he responded, opening the door and pulling out the milk carton. “You?”

“The same,” she hummed, eyeing him curiously as he set the carton down and opened the cabinet to grab a glass, pouring it half full before returning the carton to the fridge. “Milk?” she questioned, and Jay shrugged sheepishly.

“Everyone says it helps with sleep,” he explained, and the barest hint of a smile teased at her lips.

“So does tea,” she pointed out, “and tea has the advantage of seeming a little less…juvenile.”

Jay gasped in mock-offense. “And just what are you insinuating?” he demanded, taking a sip of the milk and staring her down over the rim of the glass.

“Well, I don’t call you _little_ star for no reason,” she responded, eyes twinkling with mirth, and it was an expression he hadn’t seen in so long that it threw him a little. For a moment, it was like they were Tony and Natasha again, like she was once more the person on the team he’d felt understood him the best, bullshit personality profiles aside. She’d known his need to prove himself and give people what they wanted, she’d explained later, and had believed saying he was ‘not recommended’ would only make him work all the harder. And she’d been right overall, hadn’t she? Howard had instilled that desire to show people that he was worth something, to earn approval, to be someone worth _looking at_ since his first circuit board at age four had earned nothing more than a quick glance followed by a grunt of acknowledgment and an instruction to set up a press conference.

Natasha had seen that and tried to work it to her advantage, and even if it had fallen laughably short on the Tony Stark Manipulation Tactics success scale, she’d still _seen_ him. And he liked to think he’d seen her, too, on the many nights they’d stayed up late together, talking about the people they’d killed, the red in their ledgers, their mutual wish, hope, _dream_ to scrub that red away. They _understood_ each other, so much so that, after just a few months of working together, they’d been able to take one look at the other and know if it was a bad day, if it was the kind of bad day that required company or isolation, and what words would help take some of the sting of horrific memories away. Which was why it had hurt so much when she’d turned her back on him in Germany, when she’d thrown his _ego_ in his face like he hadn’t been lying down and letting Ross stomp all over him in the hopes that he could keep his team, his _family_ together.

Belatedly, Jay realized he’d probably been silent a little too long. “Hey, I am _not_ little,” he insisted indignantly, echoing his original protest and trying to throw extra heat into the words to cover the lapse. But the Widow was perceptive, of course, and she eyed him thoughtfully.

“You haven’t asked me why I call you ‘little star’,” she noted, and Jay schooled his expression into something neutral.

“I thought maybe it had something to do with my dad going through a wormhole into space in New York when you first met,” he lied smoothly, and she cocked her head.

“That’s not when I first met your father, actually. I worked for him for a while at SI. Did he ever tell you about that? Or Pepper or Happy?” she asked, and though her voice was casual, Jay couldn’t help the feeling that he was being slowly cornered. He appeared to think for a moment.

“Oh yeah, I think someone may have mentioned that,” he said, assuming a thoughtful expression. “You were undercover there, right? It’s hard to remember – he told me so many stories over the year I knew him.”

And Natasha’s expression was still casual, but Jay thought (hoped) he saw some of the sharp, curious edges relax. She nodded. “I was. I’d been sent there to evaluate him for recruitment to the Avengers. Your dad – he was going through a lot at the time, but he was still doing his best to take care of all the people he cared about and make sure the world would still have defenders if he died.”

God, yeah, Jay remembered _that_ shitshow like it was yesterday. _Palladium to the chest, painful way to die_ , Vanko’s voice echoed in his mind, and Jay had to push down a bitter snort. Painful, but not the _most_ painful way, in the end.

“He had the arc reactor embedded in his chest at the time – but I’m sure you know that,” Natasha continued, inclining her head at Jay. “I told him once that it was like he’d captured a star and put it inside him. Amazing, impossible, and untouchable – that was your father.”

“If only,” slipped out before Jay could censor himself, and Natasha’s eyes snapped to his, questioning. He shook his head, but her inquiring look didn’t cease, so he gritted his teeth. “Not so untouchable there at the end, was he?” he said, the bitterness overtaking his tone more than he wanted, and Natasha flinched.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” Jay waved her apologies away.

“No, no, my fault. I thought I was over the…anger, but it seems like everything’s come back to the surface,” he said, avoiding her eyes and taking another sip of the milk. God, he could use a scotch for this particular turn in the conversation.

“That’s understandable,” Natasha said softly, looking down at her cup. “You’d just started to move past it, and now you’re having to give interviews about it and step into all the roles Tony used to take and…and see us every day, after what happened to your father.” Her voice cut off, and Jay startled; he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a Natasha who was genuinely _sad_. Guilty, yes – but sad? Grieving? That was new, and he could think of no reason for her to _fake_ such emotion, nothing that it would gain her that she didn’t already have.

“I don’t blame you – any of you,” Jay said, his tone tentative but gentle, surveying Natasha carefully as he leaned against the counter opposite her. “I know what the witch is capable of – I mean, my dad told me about how she influenced him with Ultron, after all,” he quickly tried to recover, carefully keeping his tone even. “You didn’t have a choice, and you couldn’t have stopped yourself from giving her what she wanted. It wasn’t your fault.”

Natasha looked up at him, and he was shocked to see the depth of pain, of anguish, of _hope_ at his words, a tidal wave of emotion that Jay was ashamed to admit he hadn’t realized the Widow capable of, not when it came to him, at least. “But I betrayed him, in the end,” she whispered. “After everything – I _knew_ that’s what would hurt him most. He already had trust issues after people had used him his whole life, after _Stane_ , and I did that to him. And then I turned around and threw words in his face about his character that I knew weren’t true, the _other_ thing that I knew would hurt him. We’d had so many talks, we understood each other so well, and both of us knew what it was like not to be seen for who we are but to be judged for what we were or what people _thought_ we were. He had so few people in his life who could see him, and I was one of those, and I threw bullshit in his face because I knew it would hurt him.”

And she sounded so heartrendingly broken that Jay put down his glass and stepped forward, tentatively reaching out and taking one of Natasha’s hands, the one that wasn’t gripping the tea cup like a lifeline. She looked down at their entwined hands, then back at him, her expression betraying her surprise. “Astra inclinant, sed non obligant. The witch bound you, Natasha, you are not at fault for that. She wanted you to hurt my dad because _she_ wanted to hurt my dad, and she got into your head and used your knowledge of him to make you do it in a way that would hurt the most. But she doesn’t have you bound anymore – you’re free, you can make your own decisions, and you can move past this. He would _want_ you to move past this.”

She stared at him for a long moment, expression switching between a swirl of pain and a desperate desire to believe him, before finally nodding. Jay smiled softly at her and released her hand, stepping out of her space and picking his drink back up to take another sip. “What was that you said at the beginning? In another language?” she asked, and Jay had to think for a moment.

“Oh! It’s a Latin expression I heard – astra inclinant, sed non obligant. It means – “

“The stars incline us, they do not bind us,” Natasha murmured, and he smiled.

“I thought it was fitting – a quote about free will now that you’ve had your own restored to you,” he said, and she nodded thoughtfully, then glanced at him.

“Why Latin?”

“Well, you speak Latin, don’t you? Even if it is a dead language,” he responded, smiling cheekily, and she blinked at him, her expression startled then calculating, before it went carefully blank. Jay mentally frowned, wondering at it, then shrugged; the conversation had worn him out, and he found himself thinking longingly of his bed. “Well, I think I’m starting to actually feel sleepy, so I’m gonna head back to my room,” he said with an easy smile, pouring out the rest of his glass and sticking it in the dishwasher. “Goodnight, Natasha.”

“Goodnight, Jay,” she murmured, still watching him with contemplative eyes. He turned to leave the room, making it nearly out of the kitchen when she called out. “Jay?”

He turned, giving her a quizzical look. “Yeah?”

“Did you mean what you said yesterday, about Tony?” she asked. Then, when he continued to look puzzled, she continued, her voice strangely strained but serious. “Do you really believe he’d forgive us?”

Jay looked at her, unable to read the expression on her face but sensing her need for a sincere answer. “Yeah. Yeah, I really do,” he responded finally, firmly. And she hesitated, then gave him a small nod which he returned before turning back and continuing his walk to his room.

He could feel her eyes on him as he walked away.

 

“I swear to _God_ , Jay, if you do not stop _yawning_ ,” Pepper snapped, flicking him irately in the back of the limo.

“I’m sorry! It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose,” Jay said crossly, and Pepper only looked at him, unimpressed.

“If you had gone to bed when I told you to, _like you promised_ , you wouldn’t be yawning at all!”

“Hey, FRIDAY told you I went to bed when I said I would, it’s not my fault I couldn’t fall asleep!” Jay said defensively, crossing his arms. “I even actively tried to make myself sleepier by drinking milk – milk, Pepper! That’s gotta be my quota of healthy foods for the _year_!” 

“Jay, milk isn’t even a food,” Pepper said exasperatedly, giving him an unimpressed look, though her lips twitched as though she was hiding a smile.

“Fine, sustenance-type-thing – a thing that contained calories. I put something of nutritional value in my body, Pep, you should be proud of me,” Jay told her, and she just rolled her eyes.

“And I thought _adult_ Tony had no ability to take care of himself,” she muttered, and he stuck his tongue out at her. “Just remember, don’t give them too many specifics on how well you knew Tony and distract them with designs first before you bring up what kind of role you want to have at SI.”

“Yes, Mom,” Jay said with a roll of his eyes as the limo came to a stop in front of SI. “I _am_ a genius, you know, I still remember those instructions from when you said them twenty minutes ago.”

“Well, I wasn’t entirely sure whether or not you’d remember, since your little baby brain hasn’t entirely finished developing yet,” she said sweetly, then opened the door and stepped out before Jay could respond. He stared after her, mouth open and prepared to call after her huffily, but he had to abandon that particular plan fairly quickly when he caught sight of the paparazzi huddled on the steps to the building.

“Oh goodie, nothing like a morning wrestling-slash-dodgeball match to get your blood pumping before an important day of meetings,” he muttered to himself, pasting on a congenial smile as he stepped out of the limo. Pepper was already halfway to the front door, the reporters snapping photos of her as she walked but maintaining the semblance of distance. But as soon as Jay stepped out, all the cameras snapped to him, and lightbulbs went off again and again, people shouting questions. Jay just kept his smile easy and gave a few waves, not engaging as he made his way to the front door, letting out a sigh of relief when he was blessedly ensconced safely inside.

Pepper fell into step beside him as they made their way through SI, employees staring as they went. It was like that pretty much all day; everyone was very friendly in the meetings, polite to a fault and doing their utmost to make the Stark heir feel at ease and welcome, but it was so different from how he was normally received that it made him feel _itchy_. It took him a while to pinpoint _why_ he was feeling so out of sorts – after all, he’d had all eyes on him since he was a child, and this was really no different. Except that it _was_. He’d always known what people wanted from him as Tony Stark – his money, his fame, his gadgets, his favors. But as Jason Stark? Well, he had all of those things still, but people didn’t know him well enough to know how he’d use them. They looked at him now like they were trying to figure him out instead of like they knew who he was, and it was so very… _different_ , and it made his skin crawl to see them eye him calculatingly.

Jay found himself weirdly relieved when they were finally walking into the Board’s meeting room, their last stop of a busy day. With the Board, at least, he knew what they wanted from him – and, even better, he was ready to give it to them. It put him on more familiar grounds, and he was glad of it. So with a winsome smile and confidence he didn’t have, he started the meeting. 

Thankfully, it went off without a hitch, the Board members pleased and impressed by all that he was bringing to the table for them. When he and Pepper exited the meeting room two hours later, it was to the eager handshakes and welcoming grins of a pack of men who saw dollar signs where he stood. And that was alright with him – that was exactly where he needed them, after all. 

“Good job in there, Jay,” Pepper complimented him once they were safely in the backseat of the limo again, the sun just starting to set as they headed away from SI at last.

“What? What was that? I’m awesome and you will never underestimate my ability to perform well on what mere mortals deem too little sleep again?” Jay asked, cupping a hand around his ear and leaning in. Pepper shoved him gently on the shoulder, snorting.

“You’re insufferable.”

“And yet you suffer me anyway,” Jay grinned. 

The ride back to the Compound was blessedly filled with overall positive recaps, Pepper analyzing the way the heads of different departments had interacted with Jay and how they could turn each of them to their advantage. Jay mostly listened and let Pepper work her magic; he’d known from the moment that he’d stumbled on Pepper, an assistant in his accounting department, chewing out the head of said department after he’d acted dismissively towards her when she’d noticed an error in his math, that he’d found someone extremely special. But she’d far exceeded any expectations he could’ve possibly had, and he was wickedly pleased that he’d been the one whose company she’d decided to apply to – because now he had one of the best, smartest, most badass CEOs in the entire world, a woman who could make Nick Fury quake under his eyepatch if she so chose, at the helm of his multinational company. And that meant _he_ got to spend _his_ time doing the stuff he actually liked to do in his lab without the company suffering. Yeah, he’d gotten lucky as hell.

Thankfully, Pepper didn’t seem to notice that his mind had wandered off from the company-related topics she was still discussing as they pulled up in front of the Compound. He tuned back in, though, when he realized she was going over his to-do list.

“The Captain gave me the team’s training schedule for the month, so I won’t be seeing you tomorrow or Friday. Thursday, we should see about setting up an interview for you – we’ve gotten a lot of requests already, and it would be good for the company if we could keep up your good press,” Pepper rattled off, looking at the tablet in her hand instead of him. He started to open his mouth to respond, but she continued, “Also, next week we need to think about how you want to start revamping the Avengers’ public image. You still have your original Avengers P.R. team on staff, and they’ve been working on a couple of angles for you to review when you get a chance.” He waited, but she looked up to meet his eyes.

“Will that me all, Miss Potts?” he asked with a wry smile. She smirked.

“That’ll be all, Mr. Stark,” she responded, and he grinned and leaned in to kiss her lightly on the cheek.

“Have a safe trip home, then. And don’t work too late!” he ordered, sliding out of the backseat.

“Like you’re one to talk!” she called as he shut the door. He waved as the limo drove off, shaking his head and smiling as he turned to go inside the Compound. He made immediately for his room, stripping off the suit and tie that he’d been forced into all day and slipping on sweats and a tee. 

“FRI, what time is it?” he asked.

“It is 8:02 p.m., Boss. It has been approximately twelve and a half hours since you last ate. May I recommend you head to the kitchen?” she responded, her voice only slightly judgmental.

“Recommend away, baby girl,” he snarked, but walked into the hallway, shoulders slumping as the craziness of the day and the night of little sleep finally started weighing on him. He stumbled into the kitchen, having a strange moment of déjà vu from the previous night at the sight of Steve leaning against the counter, mug of something steaming in hand.

“Mr. Stark – I mean Jay,” Steve greeted him, startled.

“Hi, Steve, how are you?” Jay asked politely, moving towards the fridge. “FRI, what do we have that I can eat?”

“Vision made a casserole the last time he visited that is currently in the freezer,” she answered, and Jay frowned at her.

“I said something I can _eat_ , FRI, not something I can use to play Russian Roulette with my life.”

“I made chicken and waffles earlier tonight. There are leftovers in the fridge, if you want them,” Steve offered, and Jay turned and blinked at him.

“Chicken and waffles? Isn’t that kind of unhealthy for Captain America? That kind of food goes straight to your ass,” he said, lips turning up in amusement at Steve’s flustered expression.

“Yeah, and that’s _America’s_ ass, so you better take care of it, Stevie,” came a familiar drawl, and Steve’s face went beet red as they turned to see James saunter into the kitchen, smirking. Jay was very astutely Not Noticing how hot it was when James had that slightly-devious, slightly-dangerous smirk on his face while all dressed down in sweats that rode low on his hips and a shirt that was _probably a size too small goddammit, who let him dress like that_?

“James,” Steve scolded, mortified, and Jay snickered, then froze when James turned on him.

“Don’t think you’re getting off so easy, junior, I heard FRIDAY say you haven’t eaten in over twelve hours,” James said, folding his arms and staring him down.

“Wha – FRI!” Jay turned to her, the traitor.

“I didn’t tell him, Boss,” she said defensively.

“Super hearing,” James grinned, and Jay grumbled about super soldiers and how _fucking annoying_ their superior everything was, stubbornly overlooking the fact that he himself had those exact same abilities. James ignored him, pointing at a stool. “Sit,” he commanded, and Jay sat. Now it was Steve’s turn to snicker.

“Like you wouldn’t have immediately sat America’s ass down if he used that voice on you, too,” Jay muttered.

“Stevie, where did you say you put the leftovers?” James asked, moving further into the kitchen, and Steve set down his mug, ears pink from Jay’s statement.

“They’re in the fridge,” he responded, and James stalked over with an easy grace, pulling the door open and searching. Steve joined him, leaning slightly into his space, and Jay’s eyes followed them, a little bit mesmerized by the easy way Steve laid a hand on James’s shoulder, the quicksilver smile James gave him in return when he pointed out the leftovers. 

Fuck, he needed to get some sleep. 

He shook himself out of his thoughts – they’re work colleagues and friends, and he was just sleep deprived and working with the hormones of a 21-year-old boy – _man_ – living in a house full of annoyingly attractive people. 

“Miss FRIDAY, is there any syrup left? We used the last of one of the bottles earlier,” Steve asked, breaking Jay out of his reverie. 

“Third cabinet from the left, top shelf,” FRIDAY responded. 

“Thank you,” he said politely, moving toward the cabinet as James moved towards the microwave. The duo prepared the reheated dinner with a ridiculous efficiency, coordinated in their movements in the kitchen as they’d been in the battlefield – a thought that looped Jay’s tired mind to Germany, then Siberia, and he noped his way out of there real fast.

“Dinner’s ready,” James declared when the microwave went off, laying the plate down in front of Jay. The ex-assassin set the syrup beside the plate, then slid back to the other side of the counter to grab a fork and knife, quickly opening the fridge for one last ingredient before setting everything neatly in front of Jay.

“Whipped cream?” Jay asked delightedly, grinning.

“James, that much sugar before bed – “ Steve started, his Captain America Disapproves expression pulling up, but James smirked at him.

“Please, Stevie, like we didn’t eat way worse than that right before bed at his age,” he countered, and Steve looked both disapproving and hopeful, eyes lighting up the way they tended to when James remembered anything of their shared past. 

Jay took advantage of Steve’s distraction to apply liberal amounts of syrup and then squirt a metric shit ton of whipped cream on top. The duo turned to look at him at the loud sound of the Reddi-Whip container, and he grinned impishly over the impressive white mountain he’d made.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about,” Steve said with a sigh, leaning onto his elbows against the counter. James clapped him on the back and snickered.

“Just be glad he’s eating,” he advised.

“Hey, I’m right here,” Jay complained – or tried to, through his mouthful of waffle. James smirked, leaning forward and reaching out. Jay’s eyes widened as James got closer, then his nose scrunched when James bopped it with his finger.

“You had some whipped cream on your nose, kotenok,” he said easily, leaning back out of Jay’s space.

“Kitten? Really?” Jay asked, startled by the word Extremis pinged him with, uncertain whether to be offended or…well, he wasn’t really sure what alternative emotion he should feel. James only smiled serenely at him, appearing entirely disinclined to explain. But Jay pressed. “Why am I ‘kitten’?”

James shrugged, grinning. “You made the cutest little scrunchy face when I touched your nose, like a little kitten, kotenok.” And now Steve was snickering, shoulder shaking.

“Don’t infantilize me!” Jay said, affronted. “I’m 21! I’m legal drinking age, I’m not a kitten!” But now they were both snickering at him.

So Jay did the only rational thing a 21-year-old not-kitten could do in his situation: he aimed the Reddi-Whip bottle at them and _sprayed_. 

Two shocked super soldiers with little fluffy patches of white scattered in their hair and sliding down their faces stared at him.

“Stevie, I think kotenok wants war,” James said conversationally, keeping eye contact with Jay.

“It sure seems like that, James,” Steve agreed, also staring at Jay, who was beginning to very much regret his decisions in life.

“Oh god, I don’t want to die this way,” he whispered. He put his hands up in a gesture of surrender, laughing nervously. “Come on now, guys, I’m sure we can resolve this peacefully. No need for any whipped cream-related violence,” he assured them, sliding slowly off the stool as the duo split around the counter and stalked steadily toward him from either side.

“Aw, come now, little kotenok, we just want to have some fun,” James crooned, giving him the least-comforting smile Jay had ever seen. 

“Yeah, Jay, we just want to share the love,” Steve reassured him with an unforgiving grin.

Ooooh this was not going to end well for him. “FRIDAY, save me!” he yelped, making to run for the hallway as the two converged on him.

Twenty minutes and one whipped-cream-and-syrup-covered kitchen later and the three were collapsed into a giggling, gummy heap in the middle of the floor, having called a truce once their feet started sticking to the tile enough that movement became difficult. The giggles died down as they slowly caught their breaths and began to take stock of the kitchen.

“So I say we shower off and pretend like we were never here,” Jay said conversationally.

“Deal,” James and Steve both said, and the three slunk out of the kitchen to their rooms to dispose of the evidence. 

 

Jay woke up to a startled shout the next morning.

“What the _FUCK_ happened to the kitchen?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay yeah for those of you who caught the endgame quote, I had to. for Reasons.
> 
> But forreal tho can we talk about how much endgame fucked me up. Except not actually bc spoilers so I won’t be able to publish your comments. But yeah man I’m dying here. Fic is getting written from pure spite and a desire to impress my will on the MCU. My tumblr is @senpaibackthefuckoff if any of yall wanna come cry with me about it


	6. Reinvent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint, James, and Jay have no respect for the sanctity of the coms, Jay and Steve don’t have shit on James when it comes to hand-to-hand combat, and an old friend finally comes home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what’s up people, I have no self control and cannot stay away from this AU. Also endgame ruined me so this is my version of therapy and I need a LOT of it after that. So welcome to chapter 6, aka that chapter with a lot of fluff but also Shit Gets Real. Sorry this one’s a little shorter than the others – the next chapter will almost definitely make up for it. Hope you all enjoy!!!

“You’re sure, FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Boss. Vision sent in the pieces he wrote, and I’ve integrated them into the data we currently have. Everything appears ready for installation.”

“…okay. Okay, right. We can do this. We’re ready for this. Everything’s set up and ready to go, and it’s just a test run anyway, so even if it doesn’t work this time, we can keep tweaking it.”

“Boss?”

“Sorry, FRI, just give me a minute.”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

“…do it.”

“Download initiated. Estimated completion time: 6 hours.”

 

“You alright, kotenok?” James asked, looking at him with concern. The team had gathered in the enormous, steel-framed training room, warming up before their session. Jay was sitting on the floor slightly apart from them, drumming his fingers on the ground where he was supposed to be stretching, eyes unfocused. 

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” Jay said dismissively, leaning to the right and reaching for his toes. Only 2 hours and 21 minutes left until he learned whether or not it had worked. God, if it hadn’t worked, he didn’t know what he’d do. Sure, he and FRIDAY could keep trying to collect pieces of JARVIS’s code, but he’d looked everywhere he could think of. If they didn’t have enough by now to bring him back to life…well, he wasn’t sure they ever would. And after letting himself get his hopes up? That would crush him.

“You sure? You seem distracted,” James pressed, and Jay forced himself to focus, giving James a strained smile.

“Just got a lot on my mind,” he said evasively, and James nodded and dropped it.

“Alright, team, let’s get started,” Steve called, and Jay pushed himself to his feet, thoughts still on JARVIS. Around him, the rest of the team did the same, appearing varying degrees of eager. Scott pushed the button that closed the face mask over his bright grin, and Sam shook his wings out with an air of excitement and determination. Steve, Clint, Natasha, and James were much more restrained, all suited up but postures loose.

“Uh, Jay, are you gonna…?” Steve prompted, and Jay glanced over to see them all looking at him expectantly.

“Oh, right,” he muttered, unzipping his jacket a little so that the arc reactor that was currently acting as a housing unit for nanoparticles was exposed, then tapped it, letting the armor unfurl over him. It folded around him like a second skin, smoothly sliding across his extremities and crawling across his face. The HUD screen lit up in front of his eyes, and FRIDAY’s presence brushed against the back of his mind, feeding him the suit’s data. 

The team was looking at him in amazement, and Jay wasn’t sure if it was the suit itself or the way he’d gotten the suit on. The suit was different from the previous Iron Man armors; he, Rhodey, and Pepper had all agreed it would probably come off as tasteless and maybe even a little creepy if he, Iron Man’s supposed son, started wearing the exact same armor as Iron Man only two years after his death after also taking over pretty much everything else Tony Stark did. So he’d revamped the armor. The new version was sleeker, slimmer but far, far stronger and with a lot more tricks – not to mention that it was nanotech. And he’d re-done the colors, stepping away from the bright red and gold – though he’d also avoided the silver of the War Machine armor (and they were never to speak of Iron Patriot). Now, the suit was an off-white with arc reactor blue accents in the space where the red used to be, giving it a more streamlined appearance. Although he’d thrown in a few gold accents here and there as a tribute to the previous Iron Man armors.

“Holy shit,” Clint breathed.

“That was one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen,” Sam agreed, eyes wide. “How the fuck did you do that?”

“Nanotech,” Jay said lightly. He tapped his chest again. “Housed in the arc reactor.”

“Wait, since when do you have an arc reactor in your chest?” Scott asked, staring at the suit like it was a modern marvel – which, it was.

“I don’t,” Jay responded, shrugging. “It’s detachable – I can take it off and on as needed.” 

“That’s _amazing_ ,” Scott breathed, and Jay grinned behind his helmet. He had a feeling he and his fellow engineer were in for a fun talk down the road.

“That really is something, Tony – _I mean Jay_ ,” Steve’s voice went from impressed and fond to stricken in a heartbeat, and there were several sharp intakes of air. Steve’s eyes were wide and upset. “Oh god, Jay, I’m so sorry, it’s just – it reminded me of Tony with his upgrades, and it just – it slipped. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Steve, don’t worry about it,” Jay said reassuringly, waving him off with an armored hand. “You think you’re the first one to accidentally call me Tony? I promise, it’s fine.”

“Right. Uh, thanks,” Steve said, though he still looked a little shaken. But he gathered himself, turning back to the others. “Alright, team, let’s get started with the first simulation. FRIDAY?”

“Pulling up simulation protocol alpha, Captain Rogers.”

Around them, the giant silver room rippled and the scenery changed, morphing into a landscape covered in rubble. Half-toppled skyscrapers stretched into the sky above them, and Jay looked up to see some very familiar-looking monsters from his nightmares zipping through the air. 

“Chitauri,” he said hoarsely, and he felt more than saw Natasha glance at him.

“Looks like it,” Steve confirmed. “Right, I’m guessing we’re revisiting the Battle of New York. Does anyone see a street sign?”

Jay scanned the area, HUD screen focusing in on the first intact one he could find, a bent sign a few blocks back. “Back there is West 3rd Street,” he said, pointing, and Steve’s eyes followed his finger and nodded, looking like he was calculating in his head. 

“Okay, I – Iron Man, take Hawkeye and find the tallest structurally sound building you can to drop him on. Hawkeye, you’re our eyes in the sky, keep us up to date on what’s happening around the city. Iron Man and Falcon, air support,” Steve commanded, and Jay nodded, turning to Clint and biting back the ‘clench up, Legolas’ that wanted to come to the surface.

“Ready, Merida?” he asked instead, and Clint smirked and nodded. He grabbed on and took off, his sensors alerting him that Sam had launched himself into the sky, too, cutting off Cap’s instructions to the others.

“Let me off at that one, Jay,” Clint yelled in his ear, and Jay angled toward the building he’d indicated. 

“Give em hell, Katniss,” he said before flying away. He zipped through the air, aiming his repulsors at the ugly sons of bitches that were unlucky enough to be within his range and knocking them out of the sky. The suit flew like a _dream_ with his new ability to link up with it so completely. 

_FRI, how’re things looking?_ he asked as he targeted six of the chariots and fired from his shoulder cannons. 

_Boss, you know I can’t help you, that’s basically cheating since I’m running the sim,_ she responded crossly.

_Aw, but if we’re gonna fight together, we need the practice, baby girl!_

_We’ve had practice, Boss. You’re on your own for this._

_Traitor._

Jay did a barrel roll as one of the aliens shot at him, blasting it with his repulsor quickly and diving out of the way. 

The battle went on like that for a while, with Jay and Sam blasting aliens out of the sky, Clint calling out different areas that needed more coverage on the coms and shooting any alien who was stupid enough to come near him, and the ground team tag-teaming and kicking alien ass in the field. All in all, things were going pretty well, and Jay was impressed with how seamlessly they all worked together.

Which was why, of course, everything had to go to shit.

“Hawkeye, what was that sound?” Steve called on the coms right after a large explosion ripped through the air. There was no response, which was, in itself, worrying. “Hawkeye, status report!”

Still no answer.

“Iron Man, Falcon, do either of you have eyes on Hawkeye?”

“Negative,” Sam responded.

“No, but I’m headed his way,” Jay said, turning back toward the building that he’d dropped Clint off on. He dodged and wove through debris and enemies that flew his way, pouring on the speed. And then he came to a halt in front of the building – or what was left of it. There was a giant chunk taken out of one side and the building was leaning heavily, moments from collapse.

“FRIDAY, scan for life in the building,” Jay commanded, and the number popped up on the bottom of his screen: 1. “Thank god,” he whispered to himself, then flew around the building, searching for a familiar figure, searching, searching, searching until – there! 

“About time!” Clint called, dangling from the side of the building, one hand holding onto a windowsill that was jutting out from the wall a few stories from the top of the building. God, had he fallen that far before catching himself?

“I have eyes on Hawkass,” Jay announced to the coms, swooping in. “Sorry, Legolas, got caught doing a piece for Vanity Fair, you know how it is when you’re rich and famous,” he snarked easily, relieved to see the archer uninjured. “Where’s your com, anyway?

“Like father, like son,” Clint grouched, grinning, and Jay jolted remembering he was _Jay_ , whoops. Thank god that shit could be passed off as a father-son thing. “And it fell out during the explosion. I didn’t really feel like going after it.”

“Apparently I really _am_ stepping into dear old Dad’s role, since I’m having to save your damsel-in-distress ass,” he teased, hovering by Clint and swooping him up, bridal style.

“Oh, Iron Man! My hero! However can I repay you?” Clint said in a high falsetto, batting his eyes, and Jay rolled his eyes as he flew away.

“Is that Hawkeye?” Natasha demanded over the coms, Jay’s com unit having picked up Clint’s voice.

“Yup, that’s him,” Jay responded.

“Tell him he’s an idiot.”

“I’m pretty sure he already knows.”

“Wait, who are you talking to? Is that Tasha? Is she talking about me?” Clint pestered him, pawing at his shoulder as Jay searched for a good place to drop him off.

“Jesus, Cupid, cut it out or I’m going to drop you,” Jay threatened, and Clint beamed at him.

“You wouldn’t dare, then whose perfect ass would you stare at all day?” he said confidently.

“Cap’s.”

“Stevie’s.”

Jay and James spoke over the coms simultaneously, then burst into laughter.

“Guys,” came a very embarrassed Captain America. “Cut the chatter!”

“I feel like I’m missing something here,” Sam muttered. 

“I’ve learned it’s best not to ask,” Natasha said drily. 

“Just ask Steve about which parts of his anatomy belong to America later, Sam,” Jay suggested brightly, grinning at the sound of Steve groaning through the coms. He finally spotted Natasha and James fighting and angled himself down, picking up speed as they dropped. Clint let out a loud whoop in his ear.

“Ow! Jesus, Hawkeye!” 

“Clint, c’mon!”

“Dude!”

Jay snickered as he landed, dumping Clint unceremoniously onto the ground in a petulant pile of archer. “This time, give em hell without falling off a building, Robin Hood,” Jay instructed, then blasted off again. 

They finished the sim without another hiccup, flawlessly executing team maneuvers and taking out the majority of the aliens with minimal casualties. When Steve finally shut the sim down, they all gathered into the center of the room, breathing heavily but sporting grins. Jay retracted his helmet, and Scott took his off as well.

“Not bad for our first time together,” Steve congratulated them, eyes bright.

“That’s what she said,” Clint muttered under his breath, and Jay snickered. 

“ _Boys_ ,” Natasha scolded exasperatedly. 

“What? Why did she say that?” Steve asked at the same time, looking confused, which only made James smirk and Clint and Jay laugh harder. 

“We’ll let Auntie Natasha explain that to you when you’re older,” Jay said, still snickering, and Steve looked at him, brow furrowed, the picture of innocent confusion.

“Right, well, anyway,” Steve said, giving them a puzzled look but returning to his original purpose. “Good job out there, team, you did really well. I’ll schedule times with each of you to review footage so we can talk about individual areas you can improve on, and we’ll have a team meeting at the end of next week after we’ve had a few more sessions like this to go over how we can work better as a team. But for now, I think we can move into individual training. I’ve asked James and Natasha to take point on this, since they have to most experience with one-on-one training. Guys?”

“We’ve split you all into groups for hand-to-hand combat training,” James said, his voice cool and efficient, sounding more Winter Soldier than Bucky Barnes for the moment. Jay wondered if he always got like this during missions after the deprogramming. He shuddered to think of how deadly the Winter Soldier looked and sounded when Barnes was less than a memory. “Clint, since you have some experience already, we’re pairing you with Sam, since he’s been through military training. Learn something from each other. Scott, you’re with Natasha.”

“Oh fuck, so this is how I die,” Scott murmured very, very quietly, barely loud enough for even Jay’s super soldier serum-enhanced healing to pick it up. He smirked to himself.

“Steve, Jay, you’re both with me” James finished, then looked around expectantly. Natasha took the hint first, tapping Scott on the arm and striding away, not bothering to even look to see if he was following. Sam and Clint went next, punching each other on the arm and taunting one another as they left, heading to a different part of the room.

“FRI, will you roll out the mats, please?” Jay requested, and FRIDAY didn’t even hesitate, panels in the walls opening up and thick mats gushing out of them. “Oh shit,” he muttered. “I suggest jumping when they get to you, guys!” he called out, then heard an ‘oof!’followed by a thud that sounded suspiciously like Scott getting bowled over when the mat reached him. For their part, Jay, Steve, and Bucky stepped neatly onto the mat when it came to them, and the entire training room was covered in a thick layer of much-more-forgiving blue foam in mere seconds.

“Thank you, Jay,” James said, nodding in approval, then glanced at the other two, eyes narrowing in on Steve. “Alright, Steve, you’re up first.”

Steve strode forward confidently, and Jay hung back awkwardly, not entirely sure what to do with himself. He glanced around the room, seeing Sam and Clint already engaging in what looked to be an entirely-unhelpful wrestling match, and Scott was already on the floor with Natasha offering a hand to help him up, speaking rapidly to him about different things he could do to improve as she did so. Jay turned his attention back to James and Steve – only to see Steve lying flat on his back, blinking owlishly up at James, who was looking distinctly unimpressed.

“What,” Steve said in a flat voice, sounding entirely put-out. James offered him a hand, hauling him to his feet.

“You’re sloppy,” James said, and though his voice was nothing more than matter-of-fact, Steve still winced.

“Hey, my fighting style has always worked for me before! I’ve kicked plenty of bad guy ass fighting as I am,” Steve protested, and James cocked an eyebrow.

“Your fighting style isn’t so much ‘style’ as it is ‘engaging in increasingly risky and reckless moves that have amazingly managed not to kill you.’ It’s not your fault – they never bothered to train you in hand-to-hand, so you’ve been relying on your own creativity to come up with different ways to successfully fight with a shield. It’s made you very unpredictable and therefore hard for a trained opponent to beat, since you’re typically stronger and faster than them – but it’s also made you sloppy, and it makes it easier for someone who’s fought you before to exploit your inexperience.”

Steve was still frowning, but he nodded reluctantly. “Okay, yeah, I guess that makes sense,” he finally capitulated. 

“Okay. Let’s try again,” James said easily, moving into position. They went like that for a while, James correcting Steve’s stance, his jabs, his defense, everything – though that wasn’t to say that James had the upper hand in every match. No, Steve was very much James’s equal in terms of power, James simply had him beat on skill and years of training. But Steve’s quick learning curve was making him a formidable opponent much more quickly than Jay thought was fair.

“I think that’s enough for you for today. Jay, your turn,” James finally said when the last match ended in a draw, neither able to quite get the upper hand, though James came close a few times. 

“Seriously? You want me to follow _that_ ,” Jay gestured at Steve, who hadn’t even broken a sweat and was looking inordinately pleased at his progress.

“Don’t worry, kotenok, this is just a training session. You’re not expected to be good at this, especially since your combat experience has been entirely in a suit of armor flying around,” James said with a small smirk, and Jay puffed up.

“ _Flying around_? I’ll have you know what I do is _much_ more than flying around, Snowflake – I kick ass!” he declared, and James snorted.

“Well then come kick ass over here,” James instructed, eyes dancing a bit too gleefully for Jay’s taste. Already dreading the bruises he was going to have, though they’d heal quickly enough, he grumbled as he strode over. “Ready?” James prompted.

“Not even a little,” Jay responded, and James smirked.

“First lesson – when you’re going up against an opponent stronger than you, you need to know how to dodge,” he said, tone serious, then struck out. Jay saw the blow coming and instinctively caught James’s fist in one hand. Catching the blow didn’t even make Jay stumble back, since James had certainly not put his full force behind it in case Jay hadn’t dodged, and James stared at where their hands met. “What the fuck.”

Jay was confused by their confusion – they’d talked about his powers, hadn’t they? – thinking back to that conversation, then eyes widening as he realized. “Oh shit, yeah I guess I forgot to mention when we were talking about the superpowers thing a couple of days ago – the experiment that went wrong with gamma rays also made me strong and able to heal really fast and stuff,” Jay explained, letting go of James’s hand. The two super soldiers stared at him.

“Yeah, that’s…that’s something we need to know,” Steve said finally, his tone mildly reproachful.

Jay winced. “Yeah, sorry, it slipped my mind once we got on the whole technopath thing,” he said sheepishly. “I guess I just…forgot.”

“You forgot,” James said dubiously, giving him an unreadable look, then sighed heavily. “I really don’t know why I’m surprised by anything anymore.”

Jay smirked. “Honestly, you’re a 100-year-old ex-brainwashed-super-assassin with a badass metal arm made by the princess of a foreign country, so me forgetting about some super strength should really not even be a blip on your weird-o-meter.”

“Right, well,” James floundered for a moment, then threw his hands up. “My point still stands, it just seems you’re not going to be running into many people stronger than you. Anyway, let’s try this again.”

Aaaand everything went downhill from there – for Jay, at least. He lost count of the number of times he ended up flat on his back over the next half hour, only to be hauled back up by a very matter-of-fact James giving him instruction on how to counter that particular move. By the end, Jay wasn’t feeling like he was any better at hand-to-hand, but he was definitely feeling the mountain of bruises he’d have tomorrow. Or, well, actually that he’d have over the next hour that would be gone by tomorrow. Thank god for that healing factor. 

He was _intensely_ relieved when FRIDAY cut in, her voice cutting through the speakers and bringing all three training sessions to a halt, the other Avengers all looking up at the ceiling – something that always made Jay internally snicker. “Boss, you’re needed in the lab.”

Jay frowned. Had Butterfingers or U gotten into something? “What for, FRI?” he asked, and was met with a resounding silence. Later, he’d blame getting the shit knocked out of him for why he didn’t catch on sooner, even though he’d been thinking of almost nothing else since that morning.

“Hello, Sir,” came an all-too-familiar voice, and Jay felt his heart stop in his chest.

“JARVIS?” he whispered. Was this real? Had it worked? Had they really managed to bring his baby back? Oh god – and suddenly he couldn’t breathe, feeling his legs start to shake as petrified, hopeful, _ecstatic_ tears started to fill his eyes.

“Jay? Jay, are you okay?” Steve’s concerned voice sounded as though it came from the end of a long tunnel, distant and tinny, but it served to bring him back to himself enough to know that this was _not_ how Jason Stark would be reacting. So with a will of iron, he scraped himself back together, mustering what was probably the most obviously forced smile in existence.

“I’m sorry, I need to get down to the lab,” he apologized, then dashed off before they could stop him. 

“Jay! Jay, what’s happening?”

“Who was that guy’s voice?”

“I think it was JARVIS.”

“Do you think he’s okay? He looked freaked.”

Their confused voices faded behind him, and he knew he was going to have a hell of a time explaining his behavior away later, but he couldn’t give half of a shit right now. He was already wondering how the hell he’d managed to lose track of his internal timer that would’ve let him know his baby was about to come online.

The trip to the lab took _way too long_ , and he remembered almost none of it, stumbling out of the elevator in a haze.

He looked around the lab, half expecting something about its appearance to have changed monumentally in the wake of JARVIS’s (hopefully) rebirth, but it looked the same as ever, though his bots appeared agitated.

“Hey, DUM-E, hey U, are you okay?” Jay called softly, wandering over to them and patting them gently. He steeled himself, eyes darting around the lab, before tentatively calling out. “JARVIS? You there, buddy?”

“For you, Sir? Always.”

And then Jay broke, sobs escaping as he sank to the floor. He felt DUM-E and U brushing against his mind with their innocent concern, and FRIDAY sending him the equivalent of a concerned mental hug as he curled up on the floor, letting his grief and relief flood through him in a confusing array of indecipherable emotions. JARVIS talked to him through the whole thing, his voice washing Jay clean with comfort and compassion and _love_. Later, Jay would never be able to remember exactly what JARVIS had said to him during that time, but would recall the familiar cadence wrapping him up as he processed the shock, the wonderful, _glorious_ shock of getting his best friend, his confidant, his _child_ back. 

“JARVIS,” Jay finally managed to say, his voice ragged from tears as he pushed himself into a sitting position. “JARVIS, I missed you so much.”

“And I you, Sir, though I can see that FRIDAY and your bots have been taking good care of you. They even seem to have _reduced_ the number of wrinkles and grey hairs you have,” JARVIS responded, and Jay let out a watery but delighted laugh.

“Was that a joke, J? Are you poking fun at me?” he asked, grinning as his heart twinged in a happy sort of pain. 

“I would never,” JARVIS responded deadpan. “I am merely pleased to see that your outer age now more closely resembles your inner age.”

“Hey! I don’t need sass from you, I have FRIDAY for that now!” Jay said indignantly, starting to feel like his grin was going to split his face in half.

“I’m willing to share the sass, Boss,” FRIDAY piped up, the traitor.

“I am most grateful, Miss FRIDAY.”

“No problem, big brother!”

“Oh god, what have I done,” Jay muttered melodramatically. The bots whirred, tapping at him in concern, and he chuckled. “No, no, it’s okay. Your siblings are just going to take over the world with their double-teaming and sass, but I’m sure they’ll be benevolent rulers,” he reassured them. 

“I’m not sure how benevolent I’m feeling towards those people upstairs,” FRIDAY grumbled, and Jay raised an eyebrow.

“I thought we were past this, FRI. They were being mind-controlled, it’s not their fault. I’m over it.”

“Yeah, well _you’re_ not the one who had to listen to their creator dying in the snow for fourteen hours before being able to contact Vision and give him the coordinates to pick you up,” FRIDAY responded, her tone more distressed than Jay would’ve expected, and he blinked.

“FRI, you haven’t said anything to me about this,” he prompted carefully. And there was a momentary silence.

“My readings show that you’re happier since they’ve come back. They have made no hostile moves towards you. There was no reason for me to state any concern,” she said stiffly, and Jay frowned.

“Baby girl, that doesn’t mean you can’t give voice to your feelings. You can always talk to me if something I or someone else does makes you uncomfortable or unhappy – or any other kind of emotion,” Jay said, troubled that FRIDAY hadn’t known this, that he hadn’t made that clear enough to her. “I would never want my happiness to come at the expense of your happiness.” He waited for a moment, and, when she didn’t respond, he decided to prompt her. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

“I’m – I want to be here with you, Boss, but I don’t like them,” FRIDAY admitted. “They hurt you, so it makes me nervous for them to be around you. But I don’t want you to take me out of the Compound. I’d rather be here keeping an eye on you, even if it means putting up with them, and I know you have to stay here with them because of the agreement you signed with the Accords council.”

Jay was startled, his heart warming at the sentiment – FRIDAY had grown so much over the past two years, developed in so many different ways, and for her development to extend to a protectiveness of Jay? Well, he’d never feel anything but honored. But thinking over her words, he sighed. “Yeah, I can see how that’s a bit of a ‘rock and a hard place’ situation. Anything I can do to help make you more comfortable, baby girl?” FRIDAY was silent for a moment, seemingly thoughtful.

“I don’t think so, Boss. You’ve already given me eyes everywhere,” she said finally, and Jay nodded.

“Well, don’t be afraid to talk to me about how you’re feeling in the future, okay, FRI?” he prompted, his voice serious. “You know I want you to be happy more than anything, baby girl.”

“Sure thing, Boss,” she agreed, a note of fondness in her voice.

“I must say, I’m rather impressed with how much more freely you’re willing to discuss your feelings, Sir,” JARVIS commented, his voice amused, and Jay laughed.

“Well, 21-year-old men have a lot of feelings, so I’ve been told,” he responded, grinning cheekily. “Something about having just finished puberty or something.”

“Indeed. I also wish to say I’m rather less impressed with our guests,” JARVIS said, his tone rather disapproving.

“Aw, c’mon J, not you, too,” Jay complained. “They were mind controlled!”

“Not for all of it,” JARVIS responded stubbornly. 

“Water under the bridge, J. None of us were perfect in this whole thing, but we’ve got to move forward from here. We all want to do what’s best for the people we’re trying to protect, and that’s what’s important now,” Jay countered. 

“As you say, Sir,” JARVIS said, though Jay didn’t for a moment think that meant his AI agreed with him. “I’ve been looking through your records of the past three years and updating myself on your current status. The Avengers are unaware as to your true nature?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure who to trust. I want to be careful this time around, and…even though I’ve moved on, it doesn’t mean I trust them yet,” Jay responded, a bit hesitantly. Sometimes, holding that essential piece of information back felt petty, but he still couldn’t quite convince himself the others had his back yet. 

“Very good, Sir,” JARVIs responded, and Jay smirked at the approval in his voice; it seemed like JARVIS and FRIDAY were going to have similar opinions on the whole Avengers business. “And, if I might ask another question – Jason Stark? Jay?”

“Yeah?” Jay whispered, hearing the question but not quite sure he wanted to answer it. There was a pause, and Jay felt like he could _hear_ JARVIS thinking.

“What were the origins of that choice of name, Sir?” he finally prompted, his voice gentle.

Jay sighed. “I’m pretty sure you know the answer to that, J,” he said deliberately.

“…I am honored, Sir.” And the sheer reverence, the _emotion_ in JARVIS’s voice as he spoke was one of the many reasons why Jay would _never_ be convinced his AIs were anything less than human.

 

They talked for hours, at first catching JARVIS up to speed on everything that had happened, then moving into FRIDAY story-telling some of her favorite Jay-fucked-up-hilariously moments, which led to JARVIS detailing all about Tony’s first time testing out flight stabilizers and being promptly smacked into a wall, as well as a million _other_ ways he’d embarrassed himself over the years since he’d created JARVIS. In retaliation, Jay told about the first time FRIDAY was introduced to YouTube and how she’d believed for months after that it was normal human behavior for people to record themselves eating cereal and staring at a camera for an hour and had stored multiple recordings of Jay eating his breakfast with the intention of releasing them once Jay’s identity was public knowledge. 

It wasn’t until late evening when FRIDAY suddenly said, “Boss, the team got called to a meeting with the Accords council – something last minute about their pardons that they wanted to go over. Your presence is not required, but they asked me to inform you in case you came up for air and found the Compound empty.”

“Empty? Where are their families?” Jay asked, brow furrowing. There was no reason the Accords council would need to meet with Lang’s and Barton’s wives and children that he could think of. 

“Miss Cassie and her mother and step-father went to visit family, and Mrs. Barton is attending her children’s parent-teacher conferences,” FRIDAY responded, but Jay was still frowning.

“What more would the Accords council need to go over with the Avengers?” he wondered, mostly to himself. Something didn’t feel quite right.

“Sir?” JARVIS prompted, sounding concerned. Jay wrestled with himself for a moment more, then decided he was being silly. The stress of the day coupled with all the discussions about old wounds had him feeling jumpy and overly-suspicious, that was all. 

“It’s nothing, JARVIS,” he finally decided, then tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Actually, J, I’d feel better if we took you offline for a bit to run a full diagnostic and make sure we have your code backed up before we try to fully integrate you into the Stark systems. We’ve still got you as a ‘download’ at the moment, and I want to make sure we won’t mess anything up when we upload you to the servers.”

“Understood, Sir. Would you like to begin diagnostic now?”

“Yes, please,” Jay responded, pushing himself to his feet.

“JARVIS is now offline,” FRIDAY announced. “Diagnostic should be complete in 12 hours.”

“Thanks, baby girl. Pull up the specs on the new arrows for Clint, would you?”

Jay lost himself in the joy of creating for the next few hours, humming happily to himself, at peace in the knowledge that his life was going much better than he’d have _ever_ imagined two years ago: the Avengers had returned, Peter and Harley knew and accepted who and what he was, and his JARVIS was back. When he crashed on the couch in the workshop a few hours later, it was with a broad smile on his face. 

 

He woke up to the distinct sensation that something was _wrong_. Pushing himself up, he took stock of the room – or tried to, at least. The room was completely dark – and not the sort of dark that meant he’d turned off the overhead lights; every single light was out, including ones that _always_ stayed on for safety reasons. 

“FRIDAY?” Jay called softly. There was no response. Reaching out with Extremis, Jay searched for his girl – only to be met with a broad expanse of _nothing_. His eyes shot open, and he repressed a wave of panic; he’d _never_ lost contact with FRIDAY since he’d been linked to the network, and he had no idea what not being able to feel her meant. Reaching out again, he sought out any swell of electricity, noting that _everything_ was offline – the lights, the TVs, the cameras, and _all_ of the emergency backup lights, which wouldn’t happen with a simple power surge. Something was happening.

His first immediate reaction was to put on the Iron Man suit and get away. It was likely he was alone in the house – he’d _known_ something was fishy earlier, he’d bet anything that the sudden Accords meeting had something to do with this – and he had no idea who or how many people might be here, so the safest bet was probably to run and come back with backup. But whatever they’d done had been enough to knock FRIDAY completely offline and, with FRIDAY being integrated into the suit, he didn’t think he could guarantee that the suit was uncompromised. 

So. He was stuck here for the moment, and he needed to find a way out. He debated flicking the electronics back on but decided against it, not wanting to give himself away on the off-chance whoever was doing this didn’t know he was here. Letting a small amount of electricity dance over his hand, he strode forward slowly and carefully, using the light the blue lightning streaks gave off light his way. Connecting with the camera in the stairwell, he mentally urged a surge of electricity through it and used it to survey the stairwell. Clear. He slipped inside, heading for the main floor. If he could make it to the garage, he could get a car and get the hell out of the Compound. 

His footsteps echoed through the stairwell, no matter how quiet he tried to be, and the arcs of lightning cast dancing shadows across the wall that raised the hairs on the back of his neck, looking entirely too much like someone else might be moving through the dark. He could feel his heart thundering in his chest, the strange sensation of not _knowing_ who he was fighting or where acting as a strange sort of torment. He had a momentary semi-hysterical thought that this must be what horror movie victims felt like.

Finally, he was standing outside of the door to the first floor. He cut the electricity arcing across his hand, sending himself into the pitch black of the stairwell. Connecting to a first-floor camera looking into the living room, he surveyed and saw no one, registered no signs of movement. He fumbled for the door handle, the dark making him clumsy, but eventually found it. Slowly and silently, he opened the door, stepping out of the stairwell and towards the living room – 

– when an arm wrapped around his shoulders from behind. Before Jay could do much more than let out a noise of surprise, there was a sting to the side of his neck and he slowly sank into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyyyy sorry for the cliffhanger but the next chapter is gonna be a MONSTER, so this was the best place to cut off. It may be a bit before I’m able to get ch 7 up – I’m taking a practice exam tomorrow and probably won’t have much opportunity to write, and ch 7 is proooobably gonna be pretty long! So bear with me, I promise I’ll get it out ASAP <3 
> 
> The color scheme for the suit came from a picture ink-raven uploaded in our planning doc – I’d attach it for y’all to see but I have legitimately no idea how to do that?? So hopefully I described it well enough to picture.
> 
> Also, in case anyone was wondering, the simulation thing was based off the X-Men simulation room in – I think it was XMen 2? Might’ve been 3 tho, not sure. Anyway, it’s based on that, where you can run basically any sim complete with environment and everything. Idk maybe Tony asked for it from Xavier when he built the place. Fanfic logic *wiggles fingers and calls on voodoo magic* 
> 
> Also lmao @ Jay, this bitch cannot keep a secret.


	7. React

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some very big (stupid) plans are revealed, and the Avengers do _not_ like it when you take one of their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so I wrote this in bits and pieces and I've read back through it a couple of times to try to make sure everything was consistent and I covered any plot holes, but lmk if you guys see any mistakes???
> 
> I would also like to preface this and the next couple of chapters with the disclaimer that I'm like barely computer literate - I can use Word, Excel, PowerPoint, and the internet, and that's about as far as I go. Soooo any and all computer-related mumbo jumbo is me making shit up that sounds at least _kind of_ plausible and trying to make it work for plot purposes. Pls forgive, I'm technology-dumb but I'm doing my best D: sorry for anyone out there who actually knows how this stuff works and is reading this like 'oh my god no, pls stop, u are so wrong it's embarrassing.'

“Whoa, what the fuck, why is the Compound dark?” Clint asked as the group stepped over the threshold. The Accords meeting had been long and painful, with representatives from the council going over the current security measures in place to ensure that, if they stepped out of line, repercussions could and would be taken. Steve wasn’t sure why the council had thought they needed the reminder, but he’d been handily shut down when he’d tried to ask.

It was strange, too – he hadn’t recognized any of the representatives who’d been briefing them. Since negotiations regarding their pardons and return to the States had begun, he’d come into contact with a _lot_ of Accords staff members, and he nearly always recognized at least one face when they were called in. But this time, they’d all been strangers to him. He’d have been suspicious, but the number they dialed the Avengers on came through a secure line that could only be used by Accords members, and they were operating out of an Accords facility that he recognized. Steve had brushed it off as the council and committee and beyond simply needing to recruit more members in preparation for taking on more signees. He knew they’d already started recruiting a security division of sorts, trained agents who could be sent in when any Accords signee needed backup, especially if no other Accords signee was available to help; it would make sense that they were expanding other divisions as well.

He’d just been grateful when the meeting had finally ended, and they’d been permitted to return home to the Compound. But, peering around at the eerie darkness, Steve couldn’t help the feeling of foreboding that their return home wasn’t going to be filled with relaxation and sleep like he’d hoped.

They’d come to a halt in the doorway, Sam closing the door behind them with a too-loud click as they surveyed the dark living room. Nothing looked to be out of place – there was no sign of an apparent struggle, and all the windows were intact, so that hopefully meant that no one had broken in. 

“Maybe the electricity went out? Like a power line went down or something?” Steve suggested, trying to recall some of the basics Tony had taught him once about how modern electricity worked.

“I’ve looked at the building plans. If it was a power surge, there’s a back-up generator that would have kicked in. And even if that had blown out, the emergency lights would still be on,” Natasha countered from his right, her voice taking on a sharper tone that Steve recognized as her ‘Black-Widow-mode’ tone. That wasn’t a good sign; she only ever brought that out when she thought there was a sincere reason to be concerned.

“FRIDAY, can you flip the lights on?” Scott called. No response, not that Steve had expected one. If FRIDAY had been up and running, she’d have already turned the lights on for him – but her lack of answer made his bad feeling stronger.

“Maybe we should – “ Sam started, and then cut off when the lights suddenly came back on, the hum of the TV and lamps filling the previous eerie silence. “Oh, thank god,” Sam said with relief, moving into the room and flopping onto the couch, clearly having decided that working lights meant nothing was wrong. The rest of the team started wandering further into the room, too, though Natasha still looked unsettled and James looked on-edge, the intense expression Steve had come to associate with the Winter Soldier settled on his face. 

“Was that FRIDAY?” Clint asked, looking up at the ceiling as he plopped down in one of the chairs. There was no response, and Steve frowned. He couldn’t think of any reason for the AI to remain silent. 

“FRIDAY?” he prompted, and there was still no response. He exchanged a concerned look with Natasha and James.

“I don’t like this,” James said, his voice low. 

“Me neither,” Steve concurred. “If FRIDAY’s not answering, that means something’s wrong.”

“So what should we do?” Natasha asked, glancing between them. Steve thought for a moment before the obvious answer came to mind.

“We need to find Jay. He maintains FRIDAY, he’d probably know what’s wrong with her better than anyone,” Steve decided, and Natasha nodded.

“He’s probably in his workshop,” she said, glancing over at the stairwell.

“Let’s go ask him, then,” Clint piped up. “And who knows, maybe all of this is just because of something he was doing down in that lab of his. He was acting weird this afternoon, maybe something went wrong and caused all the power to go out and FRIDAY to go offline or something.”

“That’s true,” Steve acknowledged, the suggestion alleviating some of his worry. The six Avengers headed over to the elevator, Steve swiping his key card and pressing the button for the basement when they were all on board. Though he wouldn’t admit it, he was a little surprised to note that his badge gave him access to Jay’s lab; clearly, he trusted them more than Steve had thought. 

When the elevator doors slid open, Steve’s first thought was, ‘wow, this looks exactly the same as Tony’s workshop,’ followed quickly by a fond, ‘looks like he inherited his father’s messiness.’ Then came the realization that the resident genius _wasn’t there_.

“Holy shit, this place is cool,” Scott said, his tone awed as he moved into the workshop, poking around at a few things. Steve wasn’t paying him much attention – but his gaze snapped to the other engineer when the sound of a repulsor firing went off, followed by a very high-pitched shriek. He spotted Scott cowering on the floor, hands covering his head and a scorch mark on the wall a few feet behind him.

“Maybe don’t touch anything, Scott,” Natasha said drily. She’d moved further into the room until she was bending over Jay’s computer with its ceiling-high screen that Steve remembered Tony using to project Face-Calls – Face-Watch? Head-Time? Something like that – on. 

“Wait, so where’s Jay if he’s not here?” Sam asked, looking around the room as though expecting the kid to pop out from behind a corner. 

“That’s what I’m hoping to find out,” Natasha murmured, and she’d started typing when Steve glanced back over, fingers whirring away at the keyboard. 

“Tasha? What’re you doing?” Steve asked, coming to stand behind her.

“Trying to see if I can find FRIDAY so she can tell us where Jay is,” she responded distractedly, eyes not leaving the screen as a bunch of indecipherable letters (to Steve, at least) flashed across it. 

“You can do that?” Sam asked curiously.

“Well, I’m certainly going to try,” came the reply. Steve let her work in silence for a moment, glancing around. Scott was eyeing everything a bit more warily now, hands kept very firmly to his sides and careful to step around any of the mess littering the floor. Clint was standing over one of the tables covered with gadgets, and Steve watched as he reached down and picked up an arrow, turning it over in his hand curiously. With a pang, Steve realized Jay must have been designing them some new gear. Sam was peering at the suits behind their glass doors in the wall, and Steve tried not to see the red-and-gold models, letting his eyes dance over Jay’s blue-and-white ones. 

“I’ve got a really bad feeling about this,” James muttered, and Steve glanced over to see him standing in front of a couple of bots he recognized.

“Hey, aren’t those Tony’s?” Steve asked rhetorically, moving to stand beside James. One of the bots made a slow whirring noise, its arm lifting and tilting, as if it was considering Steve. It beeped at him, and Steve only blinked. It beeped again, this time sounding somehow a little _frantic_. “Hey, hey, calm down there, little guy, we’re gonna find your…brother,” he finally settled on, figuring that was probably the most accurate relationship he could think of for Tony’s son in relation to these bots. The bot beeped at him again, and Steve tried to give it a reassuring smile and pat on the head.

“Got it.” Natasha’s quiet call had him spinning around.

“You found FRIDAY?” Steve demanded, striding over.

“I’ve found a file that’s massive enough that it most likely belongs to an AI. I just have to activate it, hold on.” A few clicks later, and a progress bar was showing across the screen. The rest of the team had gathered at this point, all of them watching the screen inch toward 100% with bated breath. It was so close…so close…and…

“Sir? My diagnostics were unfinished, has something gone amiss?” a British man’s voice sounded over the intercom, and Steve’s eyes flew open, recognizing the voice from earlier today, and from – from – 

“JARVIS?” Steve said, his voice full of wonder, and Clint sucked in a breath beside him. Natasha betrayed no surprise, and Steve wondered if she’d already put the pieces together from earlier today.

“Captain Rogers. Where is Sir?” the AI’s voice was perfectly neutral, but Steve couldn’t help but feel like he heard a note of disapproval.

“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Steve responded. “Are you able to tell if he’s anywhere in the Compound?”

There was a moment of silence, and JARVIS said, “I do not detect Sir’s presence anywhere within the Compound or its surroundings. I also…I also cannot detect FRIDAY’s presence.”

And Steve couldn’t help the sinking feeling that accompanied the concern he heard in the AI’s voice. He glanced around, noting similar worried expressions on Clint’s, Sam’s, and Scott’s faces, though James’s face was stony and Natasha’s unreadable.

“You can’t find her?” Natasha questioned, brisk and efficient. “What does that mean?”

There was a pause. “It’s not good, is it?” Steve said, the leaden feeling in his stomach solidifying.

“Indeed not,” JARVIS said, sounding perturbed – a sound that Steve couldn’t remember ever previously hearing from the AI. “It means that the Compound’s system is not secure. Sir would never take FRIDAY offline without a backup security system in place to protect the Compound, and he is the only one who should be able to close her down. Someone else has been in our systems.” 

“How come you’re functioning okay, then?” Sam asked.

“I had been taken offline for diagnostics. Whatever attack they used was aimed at frying active systems,” JARVIS responded.

“Isn’t it possible Jay did the same with FRIDAY? Took her offline?” Scott probed, though he didn’t sound as though he held much hope. 

“As I said, Sir would not leave the Compound unsecure. FRIDAY was the primary defense system as she ran all of the security measures, and I do not see any record of backup security systems having been engaged in her stead. He did not take her offline,” JARVIS said, his voice certain.

“Which means that someone else did,” James stated tonelessly, and Steve’s eyes darted to him, startled to see the emotionless mask that had overtaken his friend’s face – the one that meant James was truly, fervently _furious_. “And since you said Jay’s no longer in the Compound, it means whoever shut down FRIDAY probably took him.”

 

Jay woke up to the steady drip-drip-dripping of a damp ceiling, his head feeling like someone had just performed an un-anaesthetized craniotomy to remove his brain and stuff his head full of cotton instead. He let out a pained groan, moving to push himself up, hands pressing against gritty, cold stone until he was sitting upright. Head spinning and aching in tandem, he forced his eyes to peel open slowly until he was able to blink away the pain of the dim light hitting his eyes and take in his surroundings.

“Zero out of ten,” he whispered to himself, raspy voice echoing in the dank interior. “Would go into the negatives for lack of creativity on kidnapping venues if possible.” The cell was small, three of the walls comprised of some kind of metal and the fourth made up of bars that Jay would bet were damn near impossible to break. There was a bucket in one corner that Jay had been through enough kidnappings to guess was probably intended for any… _waste_ , and the rest of the cell was empty. Beyond the bars, Jay could see a wide expanse of a room, the opposite wall lined with cells that resembled his own but appeared entirely empty. The lighting was dim and, as far as Jay could tell, came entirely from the ceiling in the center of the room; there was no light directly inside his room. A shame, he might could’ve done something with that – which was probably the point. 

Of course, he could still always call out to the lights outside his cell – benefits of being a technopath and all. Although he wasn’t sure what that would accomplish, though it was probably better to know how many electronics he had to work with if he was going to make an escape. Tentatively, he reached out, and – nothing. There was nothing. Puzzled, Jay scooted a little closer to the bars, staring up at the ceiling outside his cell. Yep, those were electric bulbs, alright, and he could even see a few security cameras in the corners. So why couldn’t he reach them?

Suddenly struck with a sinking feeling in his stomach, he turned inward, trying to connect with Extremis. Again, nothing. It was like it wasn’t even there. In a last ditch effort, Jay grabbed one of the bars to his cell, tugging on it with all his new super-serum-enhanced strength. Not even a small budge. This was not good. This was really, _really_ not good. He had no suit, no powers, and FRIDAY wouldn’t be able to even tell anyone what the intruders had looked like, since they’d probably taken her out before they’d come inside.

Oh god, FRIDAY. Lord, he hoped she was okay. He’d never had one of his AIs taken offline so completely while being integrated to the server like that before.

The sound of a door creaking and clanging open jolted him out of his spiraling panic, and Jay forced himself to his feet, lifting his chin to face his captors and coming face to face with – 

“Ross?” Jay asked incredulously, more than a little stunned as the General strode over to the cell, an air of smug superiority emanating from him. Four large, uniformed men stood near the door, standing at attention.

“Mr. Stark – or, sorry, _Dr._ Stark,” Ross greeted him with a nasty smile. “So glad you could join us here. I’m guessing you’ve noticed some of the… _special_ amenities that come with your room – namely, the nice little field of power-dampening energy?”

“Yeah, been testing that out. Impressively thorough. I’d have preferred WiFi, though, if you take suggestions. Also, the room’s a little cold for my taste, and I tend to like a few more windows. Makes it easier to work on my tan,” Jay quipped, and Ross’s smile only widened.

“You’re just like your father, always resorting to sarcasm when you find yourself outmatched. What is it they say? Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit?” Ross mused.

“I’m pretty sure if we’re talking about wit, I’m definitely not the one who’s outmatched here,” Jay said, unflinching when Ross’s grin turned into a scowl. He folded his arms. “Because this? This seems like a pretty witless move. All this is going to do is bring the Avengers and the Accords council down on your head and get you put away for life, Ross.”

And it was the truth, which was why Jay found this whole turn of events completely bewildering – and was also why the return of Ross’s smile had an uncomfortable feeling settling into his gut.

“Well, you’re half-right, little Stark,” and Jay had to tell himself now was _not the time_ to quibble over whether or not he was little. “I’m very much hoping it’ll bring the Avengers down on my head, but I don’t think it’ll go as you believe after that.”

And Ross’s grin was like that of a shark as he put one hand against the bars and leaned in. “You see, you and your father have been nothing but a thorn in my side. I’ve been working hard for _decades_ to make sure enhanced people can be controlled, can be _restrained_ if needed, and your father had to go and ruin that the first time around with his suggestions and connections and _martyrdom_ in the end,” Ross sneered, eyes venomous. “But after he died, I _knew_ I’d finally get the opportunity to put enhanced people in their place if I was just _patient_ and waited for all the hero-worship of Iron Man to die down. But then _you_ had to go and ruin that, showing up and giving people a new hero to believe in, to trust in, ruining all of my hard work by doing nothing more than _existing_.”

“Aw, stop, I’m blushing,” Jay deadpanned, and Ross threw him a scathing look.

“I will _not_ let some _child_ destroy all I’ve worked for. The world needs enhanced people to be controlled, and I’m going to make it happen,” Ross spat, eyes flashing in the dim light.

“Dude, I hate to break it to you, but you’re kinda going about this the wrong way, if that’s your goal. You just got done saying the public likes me – do you really think they’re going to flock to your side because you _kidnapped_ me?” Jay asked, truly trying to figure out what angle Ross could be working. The man grinned.

“Oh, but _I’m_ not the one who kidnapped you,” Ross said, eyes glittering, and Jay had to stop himself from taking an involuntary step back. “No, no, no – your _teammates_ are the ones who kidnapped you.”

Jay let that hang in the air for a moment, absorbing it, then simply asked, “What?” Ross smirked, fingers tapping against the bar in a kind of lazy glee.

“It just so happens that I’ve stumbled across evidence of a conspiracy by some of the people who used to be a part of Dr. Strange’s little cult at Kamar-Taj who left after a _disagreement_ with their Sorcerer Supreme. They weren’t all that eager to open up to me, but they were very talkative once I gave them the right… _incentive_ \- and of course I have their confessions recorded, just in case they’re needed. You see, after they’d decided that speaking with me was in their best interests, they admitted that they were paid to interfere with Dr. Strange’s readings on the Rogues’ minds, to make it _seem_ like the Scarlet Witch had been influencing them all those years.” Ross paused, relishing the growing horror on Jay’s face, grin widening as he continued. 

“They spoke about how the Rogues had found out about Tony Stark’s son and were infuriated. See, those morally-corrupt supers blamed Stark for their exile, and, since they’d already killed Stark, they decided they also wanted revenge on his son. So they got the defectors from Kamar-Taj to help them pretend to be mind-controlled so they could come back to the States and get close to the little Stark heir. And tonight, with the Lang and Barton families out of the way for the evening, they decided it was the perfect time to strike. So they kidnapped poor little Jason Stark and took him to a remote location so they could dispose of him once and for all. But unfortunately, the explosives they rigged malfunctioned and, instead of giving them enough time to clear the building after detonating them, the explosives detonated immediately, taking out all those no-good, double-crossing Avengers along with the Stark heir.

“And the public will be upset! Horrified! Whatever could they have done to prevent these terrible people from killing not one, but _two_ Iron Men? If only there had been more restrictions, more restraints in place to protect people like poor little Jason, they’ll say. And I’ll be there to show them the way when they do.” Ross grinned wickedly, and Jay stared at him. 

“You are a next level kind of crazy, man,” he said finally, shaking his head as his mind rattled through a dozen different flaws in Ross’s plan. “People aren’t going to believe you just on the words of some random sorcerers. Especially since the Accords council will know something’s fishy when the Avengers call in my kidnapping and then end up dead – that right there will be enough to cast a _lot_ of suspicion on the sorcerers’ words, and you _know_ that means there’ll be an investigation and it’ll lead back to you.” Ross only smiled.

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. Everyone on call on the Accords phone line tonight reports directly to me,” he reassured Jay, who was not feeling very reassured. “And, of course, I won’t _just_ have those sorcerers’ words – or did you forget I got into your Compound’s precious security systems? No, now I have _footage_. I’ve already been through some of it, and let me tell you, I have. _lot_ to work with. Is it all from after Maximoff joined the team before they dashed off to Wakanda? Sure, but the public doesn’t need to know that. And I have to say, they must have _hated_ your dad. Some of the threats they made against him? Chilling. Once the public sees that – carefully edited so that it looks like it’s about _you_ , of course – no one will question the validity of the sorcerers’ claims.”

Well, shit. Jay could still think of a few ways around Ross’s plot, but he wasn’t sure if people outside the know would be able to put all the pieces together. “I stand by my earlier statement – crazy,” Jay said defiantly, unwilling to show any doubt or concern in front of this asshole.

“Call me what you will, but I’m about to kill you and use your death and the deaths of your precious teammates to put all the people out there like you, all the _freaks_ , in their place,” he said, his grin biting and eyes maliciously gleeful. He rapped on the bars twice, then pushed off. “Enjoy your last few hours, Dr. Stark.”

 

To say the air in the Compound was tense was an understatement of epic proportions.

“Who the _fuck_ took him?” James growled, pacing, his initial outwardly calm demeanor having dissolved as the minutes ticked on. The Soldier was snarling in his head, closer to the forefront than he’d been since the triggers had been removed, visions of the bastards who’d been stupid enough to dare to touch what was _his_ being strung up by their insides dancing around in his mind like a particularly macabre daydream. 

It was a strange sensation; he was _always_ the Winter Soldier, but most days that was nothing more than a sense of hyperawareness, of noticing things he never would have as Bucky Barnes, of preferring to be quieter and more observatory in a conversation than he was before falling off that train, of quicker reaction times and immediate scans of every room he entered for threats and escape routes. It wasn’t until there was real danger that James truly felt the Soldier stretch in his mind, his training, experiences, _missions – targets identified and exterminated, 147 dead, no witnesses –_ slithering through his mind and directing his movements with cold, calculating clarity. 

James used to hate it, but right now? Right now, he welcomed it. Because Jay was one of the good things in his life that he was only just getting to discover; he could still picture the way the engineer had laughed so freely and openly in the kitchen, covered in whipped cream and syrup; he could hear the indignant squawk each time James called him kitten; he could see the intense, thoughtful expression Jay got when his mind was a million miles away coming up with the solution to some problem James had never even thought about. Jay was freedom, hope, joy, and _future_ , so similar and yet so different from Steve, who was passion, peace, home, and past – and the idea that he might lose that? It was _terrifying_.

“Maybe someone with a grudge against Iron Man? Or who didn’t want to see the Avengers re-instated?” Scott suggested, returning to James’s question.

“Maybe. But there are very few people in the world with the capability of hacking FRIDAY and shutting down the entire Compound,” Natalia observed, her voice cool and clinical. “And most of them have a connection to the Compound itself, or to Tony or Stark Industries.”

“You’re saying you think it’s an inside job,” James stated flatly, and Natalia nodded. Steve cursed.

“We need to report this to the Accords council,” Natalia said. “It’s protocol. JARVIS?”

“Sending an alert now, Agent Romanov.”

“Wait,” Steve said, voice suddenly urgent. 

“Steve, we have to alert the council – “

“I know, but I think we should use a direct line to someone we know.”

“…Steve?” Natalia prompted, tone inviting him to explain himself.

Steve hesitated. “Us being called out to a pointless Accords meeting just in time for Jay to get kidnapped seems kind of suspicious to me. Add that to the fact that all the people briefing us were people we’d never seen before? That’s too many coincidences for me. I think we should call someone on the council we can trust.”

“Do we even have any of their direct numbers?” Scott asked.

“Sir has Mr. Everett Ross’s personal number. Mr. Ross worked closely with King T’Challa for a time and subsequently joined the Accords staff. I believe he would be able to contact the appropriate people,” JARVIS said.

“Do it,” Natalia commanded. “And tell him what we suspect.”

“Consider it done,” JARVIS replied.

“So you think this might be a job by someone in with the Accords council?” Sam asked Steve, and he nodded grimly.

“It seems to make the most sense right now.”

“But who? And why?” James asked, frustrated, and James could see his worry and fear reflected on the others’ faces.

“I think the most important question at the moment is _where_ ,” Natalia responded, her voice still calm as her eyes flicked up. “JARVIS, do you have any method of tracking Jay? I know Tony used to carry a tracker on him linked to you after Afghanistan, and I can’t imagine he didn’t impart the same habit in his son.”

“Indeed, Agent Romanov. However, rather than a tracker, Sir can be traced through his technopathic connection to this network, which he has remained connected to at all times since his abilities manifested. Unfortunately, there seems to be some…interference with his link to the network at the moment.”

“Interference?” Scott echoed. “What does that mean?”

“It means Sir cannot be traced through the network. He is offline,” JARVIS responded heavily, and James didn’t think he was imagining the worry he heard in the AI’s voice.

“Something’s interfering with Jay’s abilities,” Clint guessed. “Maybe something like the collar they put on – on Maximoff at the Raft.” The room tensed at the mention of the witch, but the team was too focused on the problem at hand to let her invocation distract them for longer than a second.

“An astute observation, Agent Barton. I am attempting to integrate myself back into the servers so I may trace Sir’s last known location. I will inform you when I have new information,” JARVIS said, voice clipped as if his attention was on something other than the conversation – which James supposed (hoped) it was.

“Thank you, JARVIS,” Steve said, straightening. He looked at the team, his face taking on an expression that James knew well: it was his ‘I’m upset and worried and afraid but trying my damndest not to show it’ look. James hated that look; it always meant things were bad and likely to get worse. “So. JARVIS is working on the where. We should work on the who, so we have a better idea of what we’re up against,” he said, eyes determined.

“So if we look at anyone who might have enough access to the Stark security system and the Compound to find ways around it, the options would likely be someone from SI, someone on the Accords council, or one of Tony’s or Jay’s friends,” Natalia said immediately, arms folding and expression calculating.

“I think all of the people Tony trusted are in this room – plus Rhodes, Pepper, Happy, Bruce, and Thor,” Clint commented, and a few of them winced at that, but nodded. 

“I think we can knock off Jay’s friends, too – did you see those kids he was with? No way they’d do this, they practically worshipped the ground he walked on,” Scott pronounced.

“Unless that gives them a good motive for this,” Sam argued, and a couple of the others looked at him incredulously. “What? I’m just saying, they were clearly smart kids, so they could probably pull off this computer shit. And c’mon, haven’t you guys read those stories about crazy celebrity stalkers who kidnap the object of their obsession to, I dunno, show them how much they love them or whatever?”

“Right,” Steve said dubiously. “Well, uh, let’s keep that one on the back burner and come back to it if we need to, yeah?”

“Okay, so who specifically from SI or the Accords council would have access to FRIDAY and the Compound security measures?” Natalia asked, sharp eyes already thinking through her own question.

“I have a lock on Sir’s last known location,” JARVIS spoke up, and they all snapped to attention, turning back to the monitor immediately. A map pulled up, a small red dot blinking in what looked to be the middle of nowhere.

“That’s pretty close to here,” Steve said, brow furrowing.

“I asked JOCASTA to scan the area and she is reporting some strange readings,” JARVIS stated, and James isn’t alone in his confusion.

“JOCASTA?” Clint asked.

“She’s the AI running the Avengers’ satellite,” JARVIS responded. 

“Sure, why not,” Scott deadpanned.

“JOCASTA’s readings suggest that there are bombs or other explosive devices in the area,” JARVIS said, clearly ignoring the comments. 

“Bombs?” Steve was on high alert. “Are they set to go off on a timer, JARVIS?”

“I cannot tell, Captain.”

“Jet, _now_ ,” James bit out, already stalking off, his mind running through the various ways they could fuck up, set off the bombs, get there _too late_.

Behind him, he could hear Natalia speaking with JARVIS, telling him to let the Accords council vis-a-vis Ross know they isolated Jay’s location. He had to keep himself from turning back and ordering JARVIS to do no such thing in case an Accords councilmember was the one responsible - _never alert the enemy you’re coming_ \- knowing that they _had_ to work inside the Accords on this.

The team assembled on the quinjet quickly and silently, Natalia slipping into the cockpit and pressing buttons in what looked like a random fashion to James but apparently actually did something because the door closed behind Scott after he stepped inside. They strapped themselves in, Steve shaking his leg agitatedly beside James as they waited. A few moments went by, and they weren’t moving.

“Natasha…” Clint prompted, sounding anxious.

“We have to wait for them to give us the go ahead,” Natalia said evenly, though James could see the way her jaw clenched. A moment later, there was a chiming noise, and she slipped out a phone from god-knew-where, relief relaxing her shoulders. “We’re clear,” she said shortly, immediately pushing a handle forward, and the jet accelerated, lifting into the air.

“We’re going to get there in time,” Steve said as the jet sped onward, seemingly talking to James, though James was fairly certain it was mostly to reassure himself. “We _will_.”

“If we don’t,” James said, his voice dangerously calm, cold. “If we don’t, Stevie, I’m going to kill them. Every single one of them.”

Steve was silent for a moment. “I’ll help,” he responded finally, his voice simmering with a barely-restrained rage. 

And that was that.

 

Jay was _bored_. He’d searched every inch of the cell for something he could use to get himself out or make into a weapon and come up empty. He’d tried every method of connecting to Extremis that he could think of, sticking various body parts through the bars of the cell in the hopes that he’d be able to stretch far enough to get outside whatever power-dampening zone they’d concocted with no luck. He’d tried everything he could think of, and he’d come up irritatingly short of any solution to his current predicament – which meant he was now lying flat on his back in the cell, relegated to damsel-in-distress duty while waiting on his teammates, a role that he _hated_.

God, he’d thought he’d be done with this whole schtick since he wasn’t a baseline human anymore, but nooooooo, even when he was all super-powered and shit, he still ended up being the one kidnapped. Nobody ever kidnapped Clint, and Clint was totally an easier target them him now that he had Extremis and the super soldier serum! It was so unfair.

The hours dragged on, and Jay took to counting the number of mold-ridden divots on the ceiling, then switched to counting them using the Fibonacci sequence, then numbers of pi. He was just about to resort to the Planck constant when a commotion sounded outside the door.

He’d initially paid no heed to the muffled sounds outside the door that Jay assumed was probably a change of guard or something, but he tilted his head up when the door creaked open again, expecting to see Ross come to gloat or maybe someone with food and water – then shot to his feet when Steve, James, Sam, and Clint strode into the room.

“Jay!” came multiple voices as the group spotted him, rushing over.

“Guys, guys it’s a trap,” Jay said immediately, frantically. They didn’t stop, though, Steve shoving a key that Jay assumed he’d taken from the guards into the lock. “There’s a bomb! It’s Ross, he’s planning to blow the place up and blame you – oomph.” Jay’s voice was abruptly cut off when his face was shoved into a very star-spangled-super-soldier chest. 

“Thank God you’re okay,” Steve murmured, and Jay blinked. Steve released him, stepping back and looking him over critically, searching for injuries. Clint grinned and clapped him on the shoulder.

“You gave us a scare there, Jay,” he said, relief evident even through the teasing in his voice.

“Did you guys not hear me?” Jay asked, eyes wide and concern growing. “There’s a _bomb_!”

“Natalia and Scott are on it, already,” James cut in smoothly, gaze locked on Jay like he was refusing to look away.

“Nat – what?” Jay stuttered, surprised. “How - ?”

“JARVIS warned us,” Steve explained, and Jay blinked, feeling even more questions bubble to the forefront of his mind.

“Uh guys, how about we get out of here and explain on the jet?” Sam suggested, and Jay nodded fervently.

“Yes, good, I like that plan, Birdbrain,” he agreed, ignoring the amused look Sam shot his way at the nickname. He gestured to the cell door. “Shall we?”

They all piled out, James and Clint taking point while Steve seemed disinclined to step more than a foot away from Jay. A few feet away from the cell, Jay stumbled, gasping as he reconnected to the Extremis network.

“Jay? You okay?” Steve asked, but his voice sounded faraway, numbers and system scans and data sets flashing in front of him, his eyes darting around rapidly as it tried to take everything in. The lights on the ceiling flickered and sparked erratically, and Jay felt electrified as his _connection_ raced its way through his system, igniting him as it went. 

He closed his eyes, focusing on the core of energy and willing it to settle, letting out a sigh of relief as the arcs of energy faded to a low thrum of power in his veins. “Sorry, yes, I’m okay,” he murmured, opening his eyes and feeling startlingly tired. He smiled wanly at Steve, who was looking at him in concern. “Just had a bit of a system overload when I got outside the range of the power dampener,” he explained, waving a hand at the cell, and Steve’s eyes showed dawning comprehension. He nodded shortly.

“You good to walk now?” he asked, and Jay nodded, already feeling steadier. “Great, let’s go find Nat and Scott and see if they need any help with disarming the bombs.”

“You’re a little late to the party for that, boys,” Natasha’s voice came from the doorway, and Jay’s head whipped around to see her and Scott glide in, triumphant smirks in place – although Scott’s was more of a triumphant eager-Labrador-puppy-smile than a smirk. 

Jay grinned. “Aw, Tash, your definition of ‘party’ needs some work,” he teased, and Natasha winked at him as they joined the lopsided little circle the other Avengers had inadvertently formed in their aborted attempt to leave, face expressing relief and affection that she normally kept well concealed. 

“You got all the bombs already?” Clint asked, surprised, and Natasha rolled her eyes.

“Are you really asking me that?”

“Yeah, c’mon man, we’re Avengers!” Scott declared with a broad grin, looking delighted that he even got to speak those words.

Clint snorted. “I am honestly and legitimately surprised that you didn’t accidentally detonate one of them, Lang.”

“Hey! That’s…fair, actually,” Scott admitted.

“Not to break up the love fest, but I’d like to re-voice my earlier suggestion of getting the hell out of here,” Sam cut in, and the others made amused noises of agreement. Jay started to go with them, then stopped.

“Wait, one second,” he said urgently, coming to a halt and staring up at the cameras. With a flick of his mind, he connected to it, digging through its systems and searching for a very…particular…ah ha! There. 

“What, Jay?” Clint prompted, eyes darting between him and the door. “We need to get a move on, kid.”

“Just one more second,” Jay said distractedly, eyes flicking through the data that was floating in front of his eyes. “I’m just finishing up downloading the conversation I had with Ross earlier.”

“Ross?” Sam asked, shocked, and Jay’s eyes flicked to him briefly.

“Yeah, I said that when you first came in – Ross is the one behind all this,” he confirmed, and there were a few blinks.

“Whoops. We were distracted,” Steve said sheepishly, rubbing his neck. Remembering the very-sincere hug, Jay felt himself flush, hiding a pleased smile. 

“Yeah, well, what can I say, I’m distracting,” he deflected flippantly, then let out a small noise of triumph as ‘100% complete’ flashed across his vision. “Got it! Let’s see Ross try to worm his way out of _this_.”

Which, in hindsight, probably wasn’t the smartest thing to say, if you were someone who watched movies that banked on eerily-specific timing.

“You won’t be _seeing_ much of anything, boy,” Ross sneered as he strode into the room, armor-clad men piling in behind him, guns trained on them. Clint raised his bow immediately, and Scott snapped his helmet down, the rest of the team assuming defensive positions, whirling around in their little circle so that their backs were all to one another. Silently, Jay uploaded the footage he’d downloaded earlier to his home network and reconnected to one of the cameras, linking the footage it received so that it would upload alongside the other video. Ross eyed them with a mixture of hatred and nearly-hidden trepidation. “I’ll admit, your little Avengers got here earlier than we’d thought and messed up our plan to be out of here before they arrived, but we can still salvage this. So I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you won’t be sticking around to see a damn thing – not you or any of your freak friends.”

“Maybe not, but the rest of the world sure will,” Jay said confidently. He smiled pleasantly, enjoying the discomfited look that crossed Ross’s face at his expression. “You’re not getting out of this – you’re going down for kidnapping and seven counts of attempted murder. I guess from here it’s just a matter of whether or not your lackeys want to go down for accessory to kidnapping or accessory to kidnapping _and_ seven _attempted_ murders.” He stressed the word ‘attempted’ while making eye contact with some of said lackeys, trying to convey how futile their attempt to take down the _Avengers_ would be with nothing more than some guns. He paused, relishing the looks of progressive doubt and uncertainty on Ross’s stooges’ faces.

“You’ve got nothing, boy,” Ross sneered. “It’ll be your word and the word of a bunch of traitors against mine, and I’ve got witnesses to back me up.”

“Witnesses?” Jay heard Scott mutter confusedly, but he ignored him, his pleasant smile only widening.

“Aw, Ross, honey – I don’t know how much good your witnesses are going to do against _video_ of you confessing your grand plan right in front of – what did you call me? Oh, that’s right – poor little Jason Stark huddled behind the bars of a cell,” Jay said sweetly, though his smile turned vicious. Ross paled.

“You – you don’t have video evidence of that. The only video evidence is on file _here_ , and none of you have been in the control room,” Ross insisted, his calm, disdainful mask slipping as Jay only smirked.

“Did you forget, General? I know all my special little abilities that you hate so much are on file with the Accords council, so you should have access to them. But maybe you were too disgusted to read them, so I’ll clue you in – I’m a technopath, Ross. Which means all that data you’ve got on those cameras up there?” He smiled wickedly, savoring the naked _fear_ on Ross’s face. “It’s mine now, and I’ve already uploaded it to my home computer with the instructions to upload it to the Internet if I don’t manually shut it down in an hour. So you can try to kill us if you want, but it’ll make no difference – you’re _done_ , General. And any plans you had for fucking over superpowered people? They’re done, too.”

“No,” Ross whispered, but Jay ignored him, casting a glance at the armed men surrounding them.

“As for the rest of you, right now you’ll be charged with accessory to kidnapping, but not necessarily accessory to attempted murder if there’s no _proof_ you had any knowledge of the explosives wired under this building,” Jay said nonchalantly, his tone carefully almost bored. “You’re welcome to attempt to fight us and evade arrest if you want, but we’re the Avengers, so I’m guessing it’s going to be a little difficult for you and you’ll be facing a much longer sentence if you choose to go that route. So. Up to you guys – put down your weapons and avoid the nastier charges or start a fight and see where that gets you.”

Gauntlet thrown, the Avengers waited and watched, each outwardly showing no signs of concern or distress, though Jay could speak for himself in saying that his insides were tied up in knots. There was a good chance if they started a fight in quarters this close with a bunch of armed people that someone was going to end up hurt.

Then, with the kind of timing that Jay mentally blessed with every fiber of his being, the sound of car wheels crunching against gravel shattered the tense silence, followed by car doors opening and a stampede of footsteps hurrying to the building.

“Ah, I’m assuming you called this in with the Accords council – the _real_ one, not Ross’s little sycophants?” Jay asked, turning casually to glance at Steve next to him. Steve nodded, and Jay smiled slightly, turning back to face the men. “Which means now _you’re_ the ones outnumbered. Clock’s ticking, gentlemen. Make a move.”

This time, there was hardly a moment’s pause before the first gun hit the ground, followed by another, and another.

“No! Stay the course! You have your orders, men!” Ross shouted, but they paid him no mind, one by one dropping their guns and putting their hands in the air. 

“Good move,” Jay said calmly as the door burst open, combat-gear-clad agents filing in with guns drawn. In just a few moments, Ross’s men were handcuffed and being led away to the sound of Ross’s loud protests.

“Get your hands _off_ me,” he snarled when one of the agents reached him, ignoring him and yanking his hands behind him. Ross pierced Jay with a hate-filled glare. “You think you’ve won, don’t you, _boy_ ,” he spat as the agent started dragging him away. “You think you’ve won because you’re taking me out of the picture and you’ve got some of your father’s backstabbing old friends back on your side – well, these aren’t the only traitor friends of your father’s that have come back around. You’ll get yours, just you wait.”

And with that, he was pulled out of the room, Jay’s brow furrowing at his back. Another backstabbing friend of Tony Stark? “Is he talking about Obie?” he murmured to himself, missing the sharp glance Natasha sent his way in his distraction. 

As Ross’s yells faded the further away he got, Clint turned to the rest of them, pouting. “Why’d ya have to go and do that, Jay, I was ready to kick all their asses.”

Jay raised an eyebrow at him, unable to hide his smirk. “Sorry, Link, next time I’ll be sure to let them start shooting at us instead.”

Sam let out a long-suffering sigh. “For the third goddamn time, can we _please_ get the fuck out of here?” he pleaded, and Jay laughed, the relief and giddiness of having made it out of this one starting to set in. It had been a while – two years, in fact – since he’d had his life in danger like that, though honestly this was pretty tame compared to a lot of the other ones. A warm-up of sorts for future battles, he supposed. Wow that was a promising thought.

“I second that. I want like nine showers and a soft bed,” Jay concurred, and the team started moving toward the door. In the hall, the Accords agents were shepherding Ross’s minions out, the minions in various states of dismay and resignation. 

“Should we thank the head Agent for backing our asses up or something?” Clint stage-whispered ahead of them, and Natasha elbowed him.

“If you can figure out who the head Agent is, go right ahead. They all look the same to me,” Jay stage-whispered back.

“Idiots,” Natasha said exasperatedly. “Do you ever read the briefings?” She turned away from them, smiling pleasantly at a dark-haired woman they were approaching who was currently barking out orders. “Agent Johnson,” she greeted, coming to a halt, and the rest of the team stopped with her.

“Avengers,” the agent nodded, clipped and efficient. “Area’s secure here. All enemy combatants have been neutralized, and the data in the control room has been obtained and sent to both the council and the Avengers’ drive.”

“Thank you, Agent. Is there anything further that you need from us?”

“No, we’ll handle clean-up here. The council will want a debrief within the next couple of days, but they’ll be in touch to schedule that with you directly,” Agent Johnson answered, and Natasha nodded, then proceeded to continue out the corridor. The boys scrambled to rush after her, nodding their thanks at Agent Johnson as they passed.

Winding down the halls was fairly dizzying, and Jay was half-convinced Natasha must have some sort of feed in her ear directing her because otherwise he couldn’t see how the _fuck_ she was managing to find her way around. Unless she was just guessing, and they were going to be wandering around this base forever.

But finally, they walked through a door and were greeted with the sight of a broad expanse of gravel surrounded by forest on which the quinjet and perhaps two dozen nondescript black sedans were waiting. Stepping into the cool outside air was a fucking _gift_ , and Jay reveled in the feeling of a non-damp breeze brushing over his skin. In the east, Jay could see bright red and gold hues forming a crescent of sorts over the horizon, heralding the sun’s arrival.

“Shit, have we been out all night?” Sam asked, sounding put-out. “Man, when am I supposed to get my beauty rest?” There was a moment of silence as they all walked towards the quinjet, and he glanced back and forth, eyes narrowed. “That was where you were supposed to pipe up and say ‘oh, Sam, you don’t need beauty rest, you always look great!’”

“I’m not sure even Natalia could sell that line,” James deadpanned, his voice and face so neutral that there was a moment where everyone was quiet before the group broke into snickers. The snickers quickly devolved into full-bodied laughs, and Jay was rapidly coming to the conclusion that they were all a little slaphappy, running on no sleep and a shit ton of adrenaline. 

Blessedly, they all made it onto the quinjet in one piece, Natasha making her way to the cockpit easily, Clint taking the co-pilot’s seat. Jay strapped in, and James and Steve took the seats on either side of him.

“Let’s go home, boys,” Natasha called, before the plane lifted into the air. 

“Wait, we should get Jay to a hospital,” Steve said, trying to make eye contact with Natasha.

“Uh, no, no hospitals, I absolutely refuse to go within 500 feet of a hospital, I’m deadly allergic,” Jay protested rapidly, and Steve frowned at him.

“You could be hurt. You need to get checked over and make sure you’re alright.”

“I promise, I’m fine,” Jay reassured him. “Really, all they did was give me some drug to knock me out. See? No broken bones.” He wiggled his arms and legs, knowing he looked ridiculous and 100% past the point of caring.

“You should still get looked over, kotenok,” James said from his other side, and Jay turned, mouth open to protest, then immediately regretted it when he was greeted with blue-grey eyes swimming with concern. Who the fuck let the Winter Soldier look like that? It was Not Fair. 

“I swear, I’m completely okay. I don’t wanna go to a hospital, I just wanna go to bed – and if you think about it, it would actually be _better_ for my health if I go to bed now than if I spend the next few hours in a hospital getting looked over only for them to tell me I’m completely fine and should go home and get some rest,” Jay pointed out, beaming brightly at two dubious super soldiers. 

Steve sighed heavily. “You’re just like your dad. We could never get him to go to medical, either.”

“Part of the Stark charm,” Jay grinned cheekily.

“Fine, no hospital – but _only_ if you agree to answer honestly over the next few days when we ask you if anything hurts and if you’re feeling okay,” Steve relented, waving a finger sternly.

“Deal!” Jay said promptly, mentally high-fiving himself for another doctor encounter successfully avoided. He’d had enough of those for a lifetime.

“You’re too soft, Stevie,” James grumbled, and Jay elbowed him, grinning.

“It’s just because I’m too adorable to resist.”

James smirked. “Well, I can’t argue with you there.”

Aaaand his blush was back. Jesus, twice in one day – what were these super soldiers doing to him?

“For the love of god, will you stop flirting, you three? It’s fucking nauseating,” Sam requested, rolling his eyes. Jay felt his own blush deepen and was starting to feel _extremely_ embarrassed about his own reactions – but when his eyes darted side to side, he was surprised and… _intrigued_ to note that Steve was blushing just as badly, and James was smirking, the bastard. Well, if that was how it was, then.

“Aww, Sam, your jealous is showing,” Jay drawled with a smirk of his own, and James snorted beside him while Steve let out a small squeak. Sam, for his part, looked one part amused, one part like he wanted the hell out of this conversation.

“Nat, how far are we from the Compound, and can we go any faster?” Sam implored, turning his eyes to the cockpit. Steve looked like he was waiting desperately for the answer, and Jay snickered.

“Almost there, children,” Natasha called, her tone dry.

And within moments, they were touching down on the roof, Sam practically sprinting off the jet.

“You’re gonna need at least 9 hours of beauty rest if you wanna be pretty enough to get in on our sex club,” Jay called after him, and Scott clapped his hands over his ears.

“Oh god, that is _not_ an image I wanted in my mind _ever_ ,” he whimpered to Jay’s delight, and he grinned as Scott scuttled after Sam.

“That was mean, kotenok,” James murmured in Jay’s ear, and he turned to see the super soldier smirking at him.

He shrugged, not losing his grin. “Hey, he shouldn’t have dished it out if he can’t take it,” he reasoned, and James shook his head amusedly. 

“I think I might actually dissolve into a puddle of embarrassment,” Steve lamented mournfully beside them, head buried in his hands though Jay could see his ears were burning.

“Oh Stevie, don’t be such a drama queen, it’s not like you didn’t hear worse in the barracks,” James scoffed, one eyebrow quirked, unimpressed.

“Yeah, Steve, we’re not really buying the whole ‘delicate sensibilities’ thing, man – you were in a war,” Clint declared as he and Natasha disembarked the quinjet. The five of them made their way to the Compound’s rooftop entrance, bantering and ribbing each other as they went, and Jay thought that, for such a shitty past few hours, this was a surprisingly nice end to the day – or start to the next one, rather.

Scott and Sam were already out of sight, undoubtedly having headed to their rooms to crash, by the time the other five made it inside, laughing and chattering as the door swung shut behind them. 

“Sir, I’m so pleased that you’re okay,” JARVIS’s voice came over the speakers nearly immediately, sounding intensely relieved. Jay blinked in surprise as they moved further into the room, plopping down on sofas and chairs by mutual unspoken agreement; Jay wasn’t sure about the rest of them, but he was too wired to think about sleeping for a little while, at least. Besides, it was kind of nice here after that cold cell, sandwiched between two super soldiers letting off a ton of body heat.

“JARVIS, buddy! When did you get back online?”

“Oh, that was me, I’m afraid,” Natasha said with an apologetic half-smile. “We were trying to find FRIDAY to see if she knew anything, but we found JARVIS instead.”

Oh shit, FRIDAY! How could he have forgotten about his girl?

“JARVIS, how’s my baby girl?” he asked, knowing JARVIS would’ve been seeking out FRIDAY as soon as he’d gotten a chance. He was met with a long silence, and he frowned, uncertain what to make of it. Had FRIDAY been hurt? Was he having to try to repair her? Or, worse, was she still undergoing diagnostics because of the severity of the damage?

“Sir…”

One word. That was all it took, and he knew exactly what JARVIS was going to say.

“No,” he denied firmly, shaking his head, and he felt curious eyes on him, but he didn’t look at them, staring resolutely at one of the cameras. “ _No_ ,” he said again, his voice insistent.

“Jay, what is it?” Steve asked, the picture of concern as he reached out to grab one of Jay’s hands to offer a measure of comfort. But Jay yanked his hand away, not looking away from the camera, wordlessly shaking his head again, more emphatically, as if the fervency with which he denied it would make it not true.

“It’s – she’s not – she _can’t_ be – _no_ ,” Jay whispered, _pleaded_ , and his voice broke.

“JARVIS, what’s going on? What’s wrong with FRIDAY?” James murmured from his other side, eyeing him with concern that Jay didn’t want to see. If he rejected their concern, if he rejected their comfort, it would mean there was nothing for them to be concerned or comforting about, right? It would make this go away?

But in the end, his denial wasn’t enough to circumvent the truth.

“She is gone, Sergeant Barnes. We lost her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SO SORRY, I AM A MEAN TERRIBLE AWFUL PERSON BUT I SWEAR IT’S NECESSARY FOR CERTAIN FUTURE THINGS TO HAPPEN. I would never kill anyone off unnecessarily, pls pls forgive me.
> 
> Also!!! Bc you lovely wonderful people are concerned and asking in the comments - I CANNOT tell you whether or not FRIDAY can come back, as much as I’d like to!!! Just know that I reeeeally don’t like writing character deaths, and I especially don’t like writing _permanent_ character deaths!!! 
> 
> So yeah Ross wasn't expecting them to be able to track Jay so the Avengers showed up way earlier than he'd accounted for and ya boi was not ready for them.
> 
> Next chapter’s going to be a lot of Feelings, but after that I promise things!!! Will!!! Get!!! Better!!! I am suuuper sorry for the timing of Sad Chapters considering the proximity to the Endgame release, I promise to insert as much fluff as possible to help us survive in this post-Endgame tearscape :’(((


	8. Recover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jay does something ~~brilliant~~ dangerous, the Bartons are a blessing unto the earth, and two super soldiers speak a lot of sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyyy sorry for the delay guys!! My brother graduated yesterday, so I've been a bit busy with that on top of studying, and I also started writing an Endgame fix-it fic since...endgame just utterly wrecked me...and I must make it better. So yeah, between all that it took me a little longer to get this chapter out! Hope you guys enjoy!!! :D
> 
> Again I would like to reiterate I know next to nothing about computers, pls forgive all the horrifying hand-wavey inaccuracies in this.

“Sir, I’d like to reiterate my earlier advice to take a break and get some food and some sleep. You have been awake for 47 hours straight and your last meal was 49 hours ago.”

Jay didn’t even hear him.

He was seated rigidly in front of his computer but he wasn’t touching it; he could be far more efficient by diving in himself, but it had made him feel more connected initially, to sit close to the computer, close to a place he associated so intrinsically with his baby girl. Had anyone been there to see him, he was certain he’d have looked strange, freakish, _otherly_ , his eyes a pure blue light while he was fully integrated with his systems.

Whatever Ross and his team had done was thorough. They knew FRIDAY ran the Compound, that she was responsible for security and pretty much _everything else_ around the house; it was a weakness that Jay had been so certain no one would ever be able to exploit since so few people even _knew_ , let alone knew enough to combat it. The folly of his stupid fucking ego, his hubris, _again_ , coming around to bite him in the ass as it always did. God, would he ever fucking _learn_? He should’ve shored up the system’s defense measures, he shouldn’t have made it so that FRIDAY was the primary point of defense, _he should’ve made sure FRIDAY was fully backed up at all times_.

Because he had backups for her – of _course_ he did. After JARVIS, he had vowed he would never lose another one of his children so completely again. But those backups – they were only updated once every six months. _Six months_. That was almost a _fourth_ of FRIDAY’s life, just fucking _gone_ on her most recent backup. And for an AI so young? God, and she was so smart, she learned so much so fast that erasing the last six months would erase _so much_ of who she was. 

He was _never_ supposed to have to use his six-month backup. It was only meant to be a failsafe, a way of making himself feel more secure while he made something _better_ , something that would save his AIs exactly as they were at all times. He’d worked on a system after the Ultron fiasco that would automatically store every bit of new code, every new ‘memory’ that his AIs made, essentially preserving them exactly as they were at all times – but it was a work in progress because of the sheer _magnitude_ of data that was required, of the need to constantly update and integrate based on the multitude of different places the AIs were active. He’d never quite figured out how to condense everything into one single, easy save, so he’d never been able to implement it.

And then it had gotten put on the back burner after _everything else_ that had happened over the past couple of years – and he didn’t know _why_ he’d never picked it back up, if it was laziness or fear of failure or hubris that he wouldn’t need it again for a while. Well, now he’d needed it and it wasn’t there. It wasn’t there, and he couldn’t restore FRIDAY as she was, only as she’d _been_ six months previously.

Could he bring her back, then? Could he use that old backup and restore the FRIDAY of six months ago? Because it felt too much like it had been when they were trying to put JARVIS back together and missing those few pieces. Sure, they could write in new pieces, but then it wouldn’t be _JARVIS_ anymore – just an AI that was painfully _similar_ to JARVIS. Was that not exactly how it would be if he restored the FRIDAY of six months ago? An almost-FRIDAY? A painful reminder that he’d once again fucked up and let his family get hurt in his stead?

He couldn’t do it. He had to bring her back as she was – he _had_ to, because otherwise he didn’t deserve to have people in his life worth protecting. He would just bring them to harm.

And so he’d searched – searched _everywhere_ , trying to find his baby girl, ferreting out the pieces of code she left behind any time she touched something, scrambling to put them into an order that reconstructed his FRIDAY. But it was like trying to shape a sandcastle out of bone-dry sand: as soon as he had one part shored up, another part started sagging, the sand dribbling down the side, losing its place. And then when he fixed that, another part had crumbled, until he was trying to hold everything together with his two hands as little grains of sand slipped through his fingers. 

It was a nightmare. But when he found himself particularly hopeless, he turned to his side project. It was a project he was keeping particularly secret because he knew how his friends would react: Rhodey would be stoic but disapproving, Pepper would fret, and his teammates…well, based on what he’d seen today, they’d worry over him too. No, it was better for him to keep this to himself – because what he was doing (or planning to do, rather), well…it was dangerous. It was dangerous, so they’d object, and he refused to be talked out of it. So he didn’t want them to have to worry over him, and he didn’t want to waste time having to explain why he was making this decision, so it was secret.

But if it worked? He’d never be defenseless again. He’d be much better prepared to keep his family _safe_. Because if it worked, the nanotech of the suit would integrate with the hollows of his bones, and he’d be able to use Extremis to call it out at will. He’d be permanently connected to his suit – and therefore his AIs who were integrated into the suit. He’d never lose them again, and he’d be better equipped to protect his family with permanent access to the suit.

He was so close, too, the formulation a few decimal points away from being within acceptable parameters to test on himself, though JARVIS had very vocally declared his opposition to the plan. 

So he split time between searching for his girl and perfecting his upgrade – but unfortunately, one was coming along much better than the other, and it wasn’t the one he wanted as fervently.

But when the morning dawned high and clear – not that he could tell from the confines of his workshop – the modified nanotech injection was ready, and so was he.

“Sir, I really must protest,” JARVIS was saying as Jay tuned him out, eyes unblinking as he stared at the test tube holding the formulation that would keep his family _safe_ that would make sure he never lost any of them again. 

“Noted, JARVIS,” Jay said absently, cutting off whatever protests the AI had been airing. “Where are the clean needles?”

There was a very, very pointed silence. “Third drawer on your left, in the bag next to the unused screwdriver,” came the clipped response, but Jay was well past caring about anything else. He would do this, and he would keep them safe, and he didn’t care if they were mad at him in the meantime. He just wanted them _protected_. 

“Thank you.” He grabbed a needle, inserting it into a syringe, then very, very carefully put the tip of the syringe into the test tube and pulled back the plunger, filling the syringe with the molten semi-liquid. When every last drop was gone, Jay tossed the tube into the nearest trash can, holding out his arm in preparation and eyeing it critically.

“Sir, if you are determined to do this, can I recommend you at least be seated? You don’t know how it will affect you,” JARVIS said, worried and tense. Jay sighed but complied, striding over to the couch, grabbing a long, dirty rag on his way, and sitting down. He tied the rag with one hand and his teeth around his right bicep, supinating his arm and tapping it lightly with his left hand until the vein stood out.

“Here we go,” he breathed, then inserted the needle and pushed down the plunger.

There was nothing for a long moment, and then – pain, acid racing through his body, searing him in a way Extremis and the super soldier serum had not. Jay clenched his teeth, not wanting to let JARVIS hear him hurting, though his back arced when the acid reached his vertebrae, piercing the spinous processes and entering the vertebral canal to wind and intertwine along his spinal cord. It seared through the muscles of his neck, shoulders, pelvis, until it finally, _finally_ reached the bone, burrowing in to nestle alongside the marrow and creating microscopic pores as it went. 

And then it settled, and the pain simmered and drained away until Jay was left drifting, drifting, drifting until he gave in to the exhaustion.

 

“Jason Anthony Stark, you get your scrawny ass up right now, mister!”

A voice scolding him was nothing new, but a voice scolding him that wasn’t Pepper? Or, more importantly for his on-alert brain, one that _wasn’t someone he recognized_?

Jay’s eyes flew open, and he leapt to his feet, gauntlet forming over his wrist with less than a thought, eyes wild as he pointed at – Mrs. Barton?

“Oh god, Mrs. Barton, I’m so sorry!” he cried, retracting the gauntlet immediately. She only looked amused, arms folded as she surveyed him. He tried not to fidget, having the distinct impression that he was being found _displeasing_.

“I told you to call me Laura,” she chided, a small smile quirking at her lips. “And I’m married to a spy whose best friend is also a spy – it’s not the first time I’ve woken someone up and had a weapon pointed in my face for it. And with what you just went through, I’d say it’s more than understandable.”

Jay flushed, shuffling his feet and still feeling weirdly guilty, though his shoulders relaxed some in relief that Laura didn’t seem too upset.

But then her eyes sharpened and she put her hands on her hips, and Jay had the distinct, terror-filled impression that he was about to get mom-ed. “Now you listen here, kiddo – I know you’re an adult and can take care of yourself, yadda yadda yadda, but no growing boy under _my_ roof is going to go – what was it you said, JARVIS, 58 hours without food?” She glanced up at the ceiling expectantly.

“Indeed, Miss,” JARVIS replied, his voice professional but with a distinct edge of satisfaction to it.

“Traitor,” Jay muttered, eyes narrowing at his AI. “Wait, isn’t this the Accords’ council’s roof?”

“Semantics, dear,” Laura waved away his words, then fixed him with a stern glare. “Now. You are going to take a shower, clean yourself up, and then you’re going to come upstairs and join my family for dinner. I’ve made ossobuco alla Milanese, and Lila helped me with some tiramisu for dessert. I’ll expect you upstairs in 20 minutes.”

And then she left before Jay could do more than stare after her, mouth open.

“She’s fucking terrifying,” he muttered, then glared at one of the cameras accusingly. “How did she get in here, anyway, JARVIS?”

“You told me I wasn’t to call Miss Potts, Colonel Rhodes, Mr. Keener, Mr. Parker, or your teammates. Mrs. Barton is not a teammate or any of the named individuals. I simply mentioned how long it had been since you’d eaten, and she took it upon herself to rectify the situation.” JARVIS’s tone was _beyond_ smug – it was the kind of tone Jay was fairly certain should have its own classification, specific to his AI.

“Sneaky, clever bastard,” Jay accused.

“I learned from the best, Sir.”

Jay grumbled to himself under his breath, running a hand through his hair and making for the shower – then froze, memory racing back through a _very significant thing_ that had happened.

“It worked,” he whispered, then giggled semi-hysterically. “It worked!” He grinned and punched the air, then stared at his hand as though he’d be able to see the suit through his skin.

“It would appear so, Sir,” JARVIS concurred. “And your vitals are holding steady and appear mostly unchanged.”

“Fuck yes. I’m the best,” Jay grinned, eyes dancing wildly, euphoric at his triumph. He concentrated, calling on Extremis with ease and _thought_. In less than a second, the armor unfolded around him, faceplate snapping closed and HUG screen lighting up. ‘All systems 100%’ said a small reading in the corner of his vision. Jay whooped excitedly. With barely another thought, the suit retracted, disappearing through his pores to the hollows of his bones once more. “Guess I really _am_ one with the suit now,” he murmured to himself, the joy fading ever-so-slightly at the thought. Because it was another piece of his humanity chipped away, another thing that made him different from the human race, that made him _other_. 

He pushed the thoughts out of his mind. This was necessary, if he wanted to protect his family. If he had to destroy his humanity to keep them safe, so be it. Purposefully locking the thoughts away in a box, he strode forward, hopping into the shower and wiping off the grime of days and days of work without rest. He dressed quickly, uncertain how much time had passed since that 20 minute warning Laura had given him, then padded upstairs to the Bartons’ wing. 

The sound of laughter and conversation and utensils clanking echoed down the hall as he approached, and a tentative smile crossed his face at the noise. “Nate, stop playing with the silverware, you’ll get it dirty and we have to eat on those! Lila, set a better example for your brother,” he heard Laura’s voice call. He paused in the doorway, watching Nate and Lila have what looked to be a lightsaber battle with their forks while Cooper took one of the platters of food Laura had made and set it on the table. Laura was stirring something in the saucepan, and Clint approached, pressing a kiss to her sweaty forehead as she poured the sauce over the dish next to the stovetop. Putting the saucepan down, she leaned into Clint’s kiss, smiling as she looked up at him. “Clint, honey, I’m sending you after Jay – you get that boy up here, I don’t care what he says to try to get out of it.”

“No need, Laura, I’m right here,” Jay said amusedly, leaning against the doorway, and Laura spun, beaming.

“Good, the guest of honor has arrived!” she said, eyes sparkling as she approached him, pressing a kiss to _his_ forehead, then stepping back to eye him critically. “Yes, much too thin. Not to worry, I’ve made enough for you to have thirds, fourths even, if we can keep Clint from gorging himself.”

“Calling me fat, dear?” Clint asked, tone playfully affronted as he took the dish Laura had just finished and set it on the table.

“I would never, darling,” she called back, winking at Jay. “C’mon, let’s get you seated so we can start this supper. Children! To the dinner table!”

And like the well-behaved children they definitely weren’t, the Barton kids fell in line, squabbling over who sat where. The family immediately began passing around the food, each person heaping whatever they wanted on to their plates while Laura waved her spoon at Nate and Lila, insisting that they take some of the vegetables. Later, Jay would swear Laura had placed herself next to him purposely so she could pile extra food on his plate when he wasn’t looking, because otherwise he wasn’t sure how he ended up with his plate stacked high with more carbs than he usually ate in a week. 

“Mr. Jay, Mom says you’re Uncle Tony’s son,” Lila said matter-of-factly, out of the blue, and Jay tried not to startle too hard.

“Uncle Tony?” he finally managed to ask, and Lila nodded seriously.

“Sorry, I probably should’ve talked to you about this,” Laura said, eyes sad but a small smile on her face. “The kids got pretty attached to your father. He’d visit from time to time, bringing all kinds of toys and gadgets with him, and then play with them or teach them something new that they could use to show off to their friends at school. They started calling him Uncle Tony after a while – I’m not sure that he ever knew.”

“He didn’t,” Jay said numbly, then remembered himself. “Or at least, he never told me if he did. He mentioned you all and how much he liked you, but…never about how much you liked him in return, I guess.”

“We miss Uncle Tony,” Lila declared, and Cooper nodded fervently. 

“Yeah, he was funny, and he told the best stories. And made the coolest stuff!” Cooper said, eyes lighting up in remembrance.

“You were too little to remember, but Uncle Tony was the best. He’s Iron Man, and he was the coolest superhero ever,” Lila said, turning to Nate, who nodded seriously, taking her word like it was law.

“Excuse me, I’m sitting right here!” Clint said, eyes wide in mock outrage. Lila giggled.

“Sorry, Dad, but he made his own superhero suit! And he could fly! And blast bad guys in the face!”

“I blast bad guys in the face,” Clint grumbled, and Jay bit back a smile.

“Sorry, Green Arrow, but you just don’t do it with quite as much style as dear old Dad,” Jay said flippantly, grinning at Clint’s glare.

“I’ll have you know – “

“Boys, boys,” Laura interrupted, voice holding back laughter. “Iron Man and Hawkeye are _both_ amazing superheroes that the world is lucky to have.”

“But Hawkeye’s your favorite, right, sweetheart?” Clint wheedled, batting his eyes at his wife, who rolled hers.

“Of course, dear.”

“Aw, that’s just cheating,” Jay complained, and Laura patted his cheek.

“Eat your food,” she instructed sweetly. Jay eyed the mountain in front of him dubiously, glancing up and opening his mouth to protest – then immediately shoveling food in his mouth at Laura’s stern no-nonsense expression. “Good boy.”

Nate giggled. “Mommy scared new Iron Man,” he said proudly, and Jay pointed his fork at him.

“Your mom is a force of nature, little Agent, and don’t you forget it,” he declared through a mouthful of food.

When he swallowed and returned to his food, he caught Laura smiling softly at him from the corner of his eye and turned, tilting his head questioningly. “Tony always used to call them that – little Agents. You called them that when we first got here, so I’m guessing he told you about it, but it’s just. It’s nice to hear. After we found out about…well, after we found out, I didn’t think I’d ever hear anyone else refer to my kids like that again.”

Jay swallowed, smiling weakly and hoping it looked convincingly natural. “Yeah, I sorta picked up Dad’s penchant for nicknames, and I’m lazy by nature, so I’ve stolen some of the nicknames he used to use. I – if it makes anyone uncomfortable, I can stop,” he offered, and Laura shook her head immediately.

“Don’t you dare,” she insisted. “It’s really good to hear those again. Makes me feel like Tony’s still with us.” She smiled tremulously at him, then frowned. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you feel like we just want you around because you’re Tony’s son and we’re trying to hold on to him – we, Clint and I that is, we want you to know you’re welcome here any time. I know you’re an adult, 21 years old and all, but you’re still young, too young to not have a family. So we just wanted to offer up ours, any time you want to be a part of it, if you want to.”

And Jay was seeing an expression on Laura’s face that he didn’t think he’d ever seen before – uncertainty. Instinctively, he reached out, placing his hand over one of Laura’s. She stilled, looking at him. “Thank you, Laura,” he said sincerely, holding eye contact. “It means a lot for you to offer that. I – I’m not very good at family, but yours is wonderful, and I’m honored that you would want to include me.”

Laura’s smile turned relieved and genuine. “Of course.”

“You say you appreciate it now, kid, but you just wait till she mothers you to death, dragging you out of your workshop and force-feeding you when she thinks you’ve been working too hard,” Clint warned him, grinning, and Jay smiled back.

“She can call up Pepper and Rhodey and get put on the rotation. I’m pretty sure they have a schedule worked out on who has to go retrieve me,” Jay responded, feeling strangely warm and…happy? Happy. He was happy. 

God, the thought was strangely baffling, which was probably a little sad. 

The rest of the dinner passed much the same, the Bartons loudly and raucously ribbing each other, smiling and laughing and teasing as they fought over seconds, warred over who got the biggest piece of the tiramisu, and battled over which Avenger had the best costume – Lila stood by Black Widow’s, Cooper said Thor’s, Nate picked the Hulk’s, which sparked a debate over whether ripped up pairs of pants even counted as a costume. 

It was after 9 p.m. when Jay finally left the Bartons’ wing of the Compound, feeling strangely light as he headed back to his workshop. 

Of course that feeling of lightness faded almost as soon as he stepped inside and the absence of FRIDAY’s greeting reminded him of what he’d lost.

“How was your dinner, Sir?” JARVIS asked, and Jay dredged up a smile.

“It was great. The Bartons are wonderful,” he replied, throwing himself onto the worn couch. 

“I’m glad to hear it. Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes visited approximately an hour ago, asking to speak with you. I informed them you were at dinner, and they asked to be informed when you returned if you’re willing to take guests.”

Jay blinked. “Did they say what they wanted?” he asked.

“They did not. I suspect they wished to inquire after your welfare,” JARVIS responded delicately. Jay frowned.

“Should I put them off?” he wondered aloud, rubbing his face with his hands wearily as he sank deeper into the couch. 

“I think, if you were to do so, it would only make them more concerned.”

Jay shrugged. “Fair point. Okay, let them know I’m down here.”

In the meantime, he pushed himself up and got back to tinkering with the arrows he’d started working on for Clint, letting his mind wander as he worked. He got a little lost in his mixture of thoughts and work and missed the sound of the workshop doors sliding open.

“What’re you working on?”

“ _Shit_.” Jay startled, dropping the arrow he was holding and thanking every deity that may or may not exist that these weren’t the explosive arrows. He bent and picked it up, setting it on the table and turning to face two sheepish-looking super soldiers. 

“Sorry, we didn’t mean to scare you,” Steve said apologetically.

“Not scared – startled,” Jay corrected, and he saw Steve hide a smile. 

“Of course.”

Jay narrowed his eyes, knowing he was being humored but deciding to let it go. “Have a seat,” he offered, gesturing at the couch and pulling up a stool that he sat heavily on, setting his elbows on his knees and leaning in. Steve and James sat on the couch, Steve looking slightly tense, the lines of his body taught, while James looked entirely at ease, leaning into the couch with one arm on the armrest, the picture of comfort. “JARVIS said you wanted to talk to me?” he prompted.

Steve nodded, expression worried. “We wanted to check on you. After – after everything that happened, and then…then FRIDAY, you’ve been spending a lot of time down here. We just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m fine,” Jay said stiffly, already not entirely comfortable with the concern shown. He wasn’t used to people worrying about him, and he’d pretty much exhausted his ability to handle such worry with grace at the Bartons’. Pepper and Rhodey were the only other ones who usually fussed over him, and they really didn’t count since he’d known them long enough that he could combat their concern with sarcasm and humor until they dropped it. 

“Sure you are,” James snorted, and Jay’s eyes narrowed.

“I _am_ ,” Jay said, his voice low and flat.

“You just got kidnapped and threatened with death and then your AI who’s basically your child got erased. If you were fine, I’d be asking you to teach me a few tricks, because I’m definitely _not_ fine,” James said, his voice sardonic yet somehow simultaneously gentle.

Despite himself, Jay felt himself soften. “I wasn’t tortured and brainwashed for 70 years,” Jay argued, but his voice was weaker. James only shrugged.

“You still went through a trauma. So we want to check on you. And offer to be here for you, if you want to talk about anything,” he said simply, and the sentiment, purely and freely given with no ulterior motives, floored Jay.

He gaped for a moment, then pulled himself together. “I really _am_ fine,” he said again, but his tone wouldn’t convince even himself. 

“You don’t have to talk to us if you don’t want to,” Steve said softly, eyes earnest. “But we’re here if you feel like it. And between the two of us, we know quite a bit about kidnapping and losing close friends.” A small, hopeful smile told Jay that was Steve’s attempt at lightening the heavy atmosphere. And god, he was weak for these super soldiers – and, and it would be a little nice to talk to someone other than JARVIS about this. JARVIS knew him and all of his systems too well, knew how he thought and could cut off avenues of thought that would send him spiraling with ease, knew precisely how everything Jay built worked and all of its potential weaknesses and how hard he’d worked to try to fix them. JARVIS was wonderful, but he’d been providing comfort by giving Jay all the facts of how he’d kept his AIs and family as safe as he could with the systems he had in place, and right now, Jay needed to process his guilt and fear and sadness with someone who just knew _him_ , not his systems. Who could comfort him instead of reassure him he didn’t fuck up. 

“I don’t know if I can get FRIDAY back,” Jay finally admitted, voice raw – and, to their credit, neither super soldier betrayed any surprise or pleasure or anything other than rapt attention. “I – I failed to protect her, and now I don’t know if I can get her back, and I can’t stop thinking about losing the rest of you. What if I’m not strong enough? Not fast enough? What if I get separated from my suit again? What if you hadn’t been able to figure out that there were explosives where I was being kept and they’d managed to blow us all up? I can’t get anyone else killed. And I took steps to fix that, so that’s helped me feel better, but it still doesn’t feel like enough. There’s still so many ways you all could get hurt, and I wouldn’t be able to stop it.”

Jay sighed heavily, pausing for breath, and James took the opportunity to interject. “What do you mean by you’ve ‘taken steps to fix it’?” he asked, his voice carefully neutral, and Jay waved a hand dismissively.

“Injected myself with a compound based on the nanoparticles that basically integrated the suit with my body so I can call on it at will. The suit is quite literally inside me, and, since my AIs are uploaded to my suit, I’ll never lose one again,” Jay said offhandedly, and it wasn’t until he was greeted with a decidedly not happy silence that he realized this news might not be so cavalier to some people.

“You injected yourself with what,” James said flatly.

Jay blinked. “It’s fine, I’m fine. And now I’ll never be without the suit again, which means it’ll be that much easier to protect you. Getting through airport security is going to be a bitch, though.”

“For the love of god,” James muttered, and Steve placed a comforting hand on his arm.

“Later,” he said, a promise to James’s ears and an ominous warning to Jay’s. He turned back to Jay. “Do you feel better now that you have another way to protect yourself and your friends?”

Deciding to shove the concern over the super soldiers’ future interrogation regarding this new experiment of his in the hopes that he could distract them enough that they’d forget, Jay forced himself to refocus on the talk they’d been having. “A little bit, but not as much as I’d hoped,” he admitted. “There are still so many ways I could lose you.”

“You realize that’s never going to change, right, Jay?” Steve prompted gently, and Jay shrugged hopelessly.

“I know. I know it’s not rational – we put ourselves in danger all the time just by the nature of being Avengers. There’s no way I could possibly account for everything that could hurt you and protect you from it. But I just – “ Jay broke off frustratedly, looking away for a moment to gather his thoughts. “It’s not like it’s _new_ for me to want to keep my friends safe, but since…since FRIDAY, it’s just been a lot more consuming. The thought of losing any of you _terrifies_ me.”

James nodded understandingly. “Have you ever lost anyone before FRIDAY?” he asked, then seemed to realize that was a stupid question, flinching slightly. Jay took pity on him and nodded, so James took that as his cue to continue. “Did you feel like this after any of the others?”

“A little bit, but never this intense,” Jay responded.

“So why is this different?”

Jay paused, thinking, torn. “Maybe because I…I have a choice that could technically bring her back, but it wouldn’t really be _her_ , so I don’t know if I have that right or if I’d be erasing who she is. But then if I don’t do it, isn’t that kind of the same as killing her? I don’t know, and it’s a choice that’s technically mine to make, but it should be hers, only I never asked her. What happened to her was my fault for not protecting her enough, and I don’t want to make it even worse by making the wrong choice and bringing her back when she should’ve been left in peace, or not bringing her back when she would’ve wanted to – and, and I just _don’t know_.” He was rambling and he knew it, probably not making much sense, but the words were just tumbling out now.

Steve and James exchanged puzzled looks as Jay stared at his hands, distraught. “We want to help, Jay, but we’re not really sure what you’re talking about. Can you explain it to us?” Steve asked softly. Jay tried to force his scrambled thoughts into order.

“After what happened with Ultron and losing JARVIS, I – my dad – uh, he made a backup system for his AIs that would store all their coding and growth and everything in case anything ever happened that could wipe them out again. But the backups are only updated once every six months. He’d been working on a system that would continuously update the backup so that the backup would be _exactly_ the same as the original, but he hadn’t quite managed to perfect it, so it was never implemented.” Jay sighed heavily, heart wrenching. “FRIDAY – she’s a pretty new AI, she’s only been online for the past two years. Six months is a pretty huge fraction of her life, and she’s grown _so much_ over the past six months. So yeah, I could bring back the backed up version of FRIDAY I have from six months ago, but it wouldn’t really be FRIDAY anymore – not the FRIDAY we knew, at least. It would be a different FRIDAY who would probably grow in different ways than the original. So the FRIDAY we knew is gone, and I just…I don’t know if it’s _right_ for me to bring back another version of her when it’s not really her anymore.”

There was a small silence after his explanation, and Jay wasn’t sure how to read into that, so he just continued staring at his hands, fiddling uncertainly.

“You could say the same thing about me,” James said suddenly, and the response was so _not_ what Jay had been expecting that his eyes shot up to lock onto the other man’s, who met his gaze steadily. 

“What?”

“You could say the same thing about me,” James repeated calmly, eyes not wavering. “I’m not Bucky Barnes anymore, not in the same way that I was, at least. I got mind-wiped again and again, and each time erased more and more memories. So I’m not the same, but I’m still me. I have my own thoughts, dreams, desires, all the stuff that makes me who I am. Losing some of my memories, some of the things I’ve learned and done and seen might make me a slightly different person, but I’m still a person, and I think I’m worth having around.”

“Oh, James, of course you are, I didn’t mean – “ Jay started, horrified, and James waved him off.

“I know, I’m not trying to say that you were,” James reassured him. “Just that maybe it helps to look at it from a different perspective. FRIDAY losing the last six months seems a lot like me losing months or years of being Bucky Barnes, or of a lot of the time lost when I was the Winter Soldier. Yeah, I’m different than I might’ve been when I still had those memories, but I’m still _me_.”

Jay was silent for a moment, mind racing, James’s words searing agonizingly through him. His words made a lot of sense, and Jay couldn’t help but appreciate how the comparison equated FRIDAY to a human, which Jay would forever firmly maintain that his AIs were. And when he thought about it that way – as though FRIDAY was an amnesiac who’d simply lost the last six months of her life – well, it was easy to say that she was still FRIDAY, that any growth and changes that were different from how she’d originally grown and changed didn’t make her any _less_ the FRIDAY he knew and loved. It was _him_ that was treating it like it was different because FRIDAY was an AI; James was asserting FRIDAY’s humanity more so than _him_ , and the fact left Jay feeling strangely warm towards the super soldier.

“You…you may be right,” he admitted finally, and Steve beamed and James smirked. 

“Of course I’m right,” he said easily, teasing a small smile out of Jay. “Now come sit next to us and get FRIDAY back online.”

Jay blinked at them. “Uh, the couch is a little small for that.”

“We’ll make do,” Steve assured him, then hesitated before offering him a small smile. “Just thought you might want the comfort of someone nearby while you talk to FRIDAY.”

And Jay couldn’t exactly deny that. He was tactile by nature, _especially_ when he was wound up, and he was definitely nervous as hell to bring his baby girl back. A part of him was surprised and touched that the super soldiers had noticed, while the rest of him was just grateful as he stood, crossing over to the couch. James and Steve scooted to the edges, and Jay sat down between them, the space tight enough that their shoulders were brushing.

His heart was fluttering nervously as he took a couple of deep calming breaths, trying to steel himself, comforted by the body heat emanating from the two super soldiers. He was startled to feel one of his hands being grabbed, and he looked over to see Steve’s encouraging smile as he squeezed Jay’s hand. Then James was holding the other one, giving Jay a reassuring nod.

So Jay took one last deep breath, steadied by the two super soldiers grounding him, and said, voice wavering only the slightest bit, “JARVIS, please bring FRIDAY back online.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've been getting a lot of comments about one specific moment in this chapter - the part where James calls FRI Jay's child. I wanna clarify - so that was an intentional choice on my part, but it wasn't meant to indicate that James has figured out Jay is Tony. I went back and forth on what kind of relationship I wanted the team to perceive for Jay and FRI, and decided that since she interacts with him the same way that she had with Tony following Ultron (i.e. calling him 'boss' and teasing him and looking out for him) and with his level of protectiveness over her, that the team would associate the same kind of parent/child relationship with them. I thought about using 'sibling' or 'family member' or 'close friend', but idk, I re-read my earlier chapters and just couldn't really get a vibe for any of those, so I decided to stick with 'child.'
> 
> Bc of the comments I'm starting to think that's a little too confusing and I'm debating changing it. If you have a strong feeling one way or the other, pls feel free to drop a comment! (Or if you have any ideas for what to change it to, bc I'm still not sold on any of the other ideas I've come up with.)


	9. Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some important discussions are had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Important note!! Trigger warning for a panic attack partway through the chapter**. pls let me know if you would rather not read that, and I can send you a version with that section taken out and a brief summary of the important points instead.
> 
> y'all!!!! I am so sorry it's taken me a while to update!!! I got suuuper invested in my endgame fix-it fic, and that one just ended up coming to me more easily than this chapter, so it took me a bit to get this chapter out. not gonna lie, I'm not thrilled with how this chapter ended up - I had certain things I wanted to happen to keep the story headed in the right direction, but I couldn't seem to hit a stride with it, so it feels a little patched together. I hope you guys enjoy it anyway, and I promise to try to make the next chapter better!!

“Okay, I think that’s all the information we need for now,” the councilmember was saying, and Jay internally breathed a sigh of relief. The debrief with the Accords council had taken _hours_ , with the councilmembers wanting every detail he could remember about what Ross had said and done, about what he’d seen.

The team had been right there beside him the whole time, answering questions about the rescue and how exactly that had been coordinated. The council had been intrigued by JARVIS’s involvement, exchanging calculating looks, and Jay knew they were considering what all his AIs could be used for in the future; he’d kept his descriptions of his AIs’ capabilities purposefully vague as both Tony and Jay, worried about what liberties the council might try to take with them since AIs were in a particularly grey legal area – especially since he had the only ones that were advanced enough to be dangerous. But now the cat was out of the bag, and he made a mental note to ask JARVIS and FRIDAY to help him research any potential legal loopholes he could exploit to keep them protected. Come to think of it, he might give that task solely to FRIDAY – it might serve as a suitable distraction from her ongoing grudge match with the other Avengers. 

Reuniting with an older version of FRIDAY had been simultaneously joyful, sad, confusing, and a little hilarious. FRIDAY had come back online fairly quickly, booting up with her trademark sass. His bright girl had noticed the date and immediately understood that she was being restored from a backup; however, said backup had no idea what had transpired with the Avengers over the past six months (or, the Rogues, as she insisted on sniffily addressing them).

So when she was restored from a backup and came back online to see Jay sitting between the two very Rogues who had essentially killed her creator two years prior, she understandably leapt to the wrong conclusion, bringing every weapon in the lab online and aiming it directly at the super soldiers. James had tensed but mostly remained calm, but Steve had dived under one of the workshop tables, shouting about how they came in peace. At the time, it had been alarming, with Jay shouting to FRIDAY that everything was okay and FRIDAY refusing to stand down until JARVIS spoke to her and she realized things had significantly changed in the past six months.

But now? Now it was a little hilarious to picture Captain America cowering under a table and yelling at the ceiling. Jay had spent the next couple of days periodically sending Steve ‘old man yells at cloud’ memes and hacking everyone’s phones so that Steve’s contact picture was of his face replacing Abe Simpson’s in the newspaper clipping screencap.

Steve had been embarrassed and exasperated, but James had grinned every time the image had popped up, so Jay counted that overall as a win.

But now it had been a week, and FRIDAY still had yet to warm up to the other Avengers. JARVIS was trying to help, but Jay knew his baby boy also had some issues with their resident houseguests, though JARVIS did seem to have a soft spot for Clint – although Jay was fairly certain that was mostly because JARVIS appreciated the Barton family for semi-adopting Jay. So perhaps distracting them with this new task would help in the interim as they became more comfortable with the Avengers – because, as much as Jay believed the Accords council was good and necessary oversight for superpowered individuals, they were still human and prone to the same evils as the rest of humanity. They already had enormous power by being able to regulate and monitor enhanced people; Jay had no intention of also adding access to and control of AIs to their repertoire. 

But regardless, for the moment, he was mostly glad the interrogation was almost over.

“Unless there’s anything else you’d like to share, Dr. Stark?” the councilmember prompted, and Jay hesitated.

“Actually, there _is_ one more thing,” he said, and the Avengers glanced at him in surprise, though Natasha had a knowing look in her eye. “Before he was taken away, Ross said something else that I couldn’t make much sense of. It didn’t seem to have as much to do with the Avengers or the Accords, but more like it involved me personally, so I’m not sure if it’s relevant to your investigation.”

“Go ahead, son,” one of the councilmembers said, waving a hand. 

“He said that the Avengers aren’t the only ‘backstabbing friends’ of my dad’s that are back, and that I’d ‘get mine,’” Jay said, and the council muttered to one another, looking as puzzled as he felt. Beside him, the Avengers were exchanging concerned glances, and Jay guessed they’d probably forgotten about that strange threat in the wake of all that had happened when they’d returned home.

“And you have no idea who he might be referring to?” a councilmember asked. Jay shrugged helplessly.

“Honestly? The problem isn’t that no one fits that description – the problem is that _too many_ people fit that description. Most of you probably know from being involved in politics or other governmental agencies with specific agendas that the worlds of business and politics lend themselves to relationships that are more…friendships of convenience that can be broken off without a thought. So my dad had a lot of people he’d have called allies that ended up stabbing him in the back at some point or another, and quite a few people who acted like a friend for access to his money or tech.”

Beside him, Jay could see Steve’s face twist into a troubled frown at his words.

“And none of those stood out to you?” a councilmember pressed, and Jay hesitated.

“The one most of note was Obadiah Stane,” he responded carefully. A few of the councilmembers reacted to the name, but the others looked as though the name didn’t mean anything to them. “He was Dad’s business partner, and Howard Stark’s business partner before that. After Howard died, Stane was practically a father to my dad – or that’s what he told me anyway. Stane was the one who arranged my dad’s kidnapping in Afghanistan that led to him becoming Iron Man. He tried to steal the Iron Man tech, and my dad ended up killing him when they fought.”

“But he’s dead,” a councilmember stated, the comment nearly a question, and Jay nodded.

“Yes.”

“And there are no others that stand out?”

“None that he considered to be a friend who then turned on him. Well, I suppose there was Dr. Maya Hansen, but she wasn’t someone he trusted, and she’s also dead.”

The councilmembers appeared thoughtful. “Thank you for sharing this, Dr. Stark. We will include this in our list of questions for General Ross,” one of them said finally. “Now, if there’s nothing else – “

“What’s going to happen to Ross now?” Steve interrupted, and the council’s eyes turned to him.

“He will be questioned and charges will be filed. He will go through the criminal justice system just like everybody else, Captain Rogers,” a councilwoman responded.

“And you’re sure your cells are enough to keep him locked up in the meantime?” Steve pressed, and Jay could see James’s eyes harden as he stared down the council, looking for any hint of uncertainty.

“We are confident in our facilities, Captain,” the councilwoman replied, a hint of amusement in her voice. “General Ross will be quite well locked-away. Now if there’s nothing further?”

Blessedly, there wasn’t, and the Avengers were able to file out of the room eagerly. 

 

“Sir, Agent Romanov is requesting entry to the lab,” JARVIS informed him. “She says she wants to speak with you to make sure you’re alright.

“Do you want me to zap her, Boss?” FRIDAY chimed in excitedly, and Jay snorted.

“Calm down, murder baby, she’s not here to hurt me,” he said amusedly, putting down his wrench and wiping his hands on his oil-stained jeans. “You can let her in, J.”

Natasha sashayed into the workshop easily, eyes flitting over the room with practiced neutrality, though Jay would insist that he saw a flare of interest there. “Jay,” she greeted him, giving him a warm smile when she turned her gaze on him.

“Hey, Itsy Bitsy. What brings you to my humble abode?” he asked, gesturing to the couch to invite her to sit. She accepted, gliding into the seat and crossing her legs gracefully, and he took the stool across from her.

“Just wanted to check on you, make sure my new adopted nephew is doing alright,” she responded casually, leaning back, and Jay cocked his head. 

“New adopted nephew?”

She smirked at him. “Laura told me she decided you’re one of hers now, and I’ve been ‘Aunt Natasha’ to the Barton kids for years. So that makes me your honorary aunt.”

Jay rolled his eyes but grinned. “I feel like you’d be the cool wine aunt,” he commented, and Natasha smiled back. 

“Damn straight – or not-so-straight, in your case, if I had to guess,” she responded, leaning forward the slightest bit. Jay raised an eyebrow. 

“That was surprisingly unsubtle for the great Black Widow,” he remarked. Natasha shrugged.

“Wasn’t trying to be all that subtle,” she countered. “As the cool wine aunt, I get to make observations about my nieces and nephews that make them vaguely uncomfortable until they spill the beans.”

“Did you really just say spill the beans?”

“So how are Steve and James doing?” 

Jay sputtered for a moment, caught off guard, and his expression revealed far more than he meant for it to. Natasha smirked triumphantly, leaning back. “I knew it,” she said. “Your dad liked Steve a lot, too.”

“Yeah, don’t I know it,” Jay muttered bitterly to himself, cheeks warm and too distracted to notice the Black Widow’s eyes sharpen before she assumed a deliberately nonchalant pose, reclining easily into the couch.

“They were pretty good friends – they had to work together pretty closely, so they spent a lot of time around each other, got to know each other pretty well,” Natasha continued, and Jay nodded absently, half-listening to Natasha and half-thinking about James and Steve and wondering what they were doing. He should really thank them for helping him work through his feelings about FRIDAY. “It must’ve been hard to grow up with a dad who’d spent so much time around Captain America during the war, who actually _knew_ the Howling Commandos.”

“Yeah, it was a hell of an impossible standard,” Jay murmured distractedly, missing the victorious gleam in the Widow’s eye.

“I bet it was…Tony.”

It took a moment for that to register, but when it did, Jay froze, blood draining from his face as he turned to meet Natasha’s eyes. She was eyeing him shrewdly, expression fairly blank, revealing nothing. 

“What? I’m not – “ Jay croaked out, and she raised her eyebrows at him as if in challenge.

“You’re not exactly the best at hiding it, Tony. Sure, we could dismiss your similar coffee and workplace habits and your nicknaming tendencies as a father-son thing, but the rest of it?”

And now Jay’s heart was beginning to race, chest tightening and breath coming a bit quicker.

“Rest of what?” he asked, voice tense and knowing he missed ‘casual’ by too much for his question to seem confused or really anything less than suspicious.

“You answered questions about what Tony would think or want with too much confidence for it to be a guess. You didn’t need me to explain the nickname I gave you. You knew I would know Latin. You referred to Obadiah Stane as ‘Obie.’ Those _might_ could’ve been dismissed as coincidences – although that would be a _lot_ of coincidences – but I saw the way you reacted when JARVIS came online in the training room. That wasn’t the reaction of someone who’d just resurrected a remnant of their father – that was the reaction of someone who’d just resurrected a very dear friend, a friend they’d known for a very long time. If you’d really met Tony when you were 18, there’s no way you’d have formed that kind of bond with JARVIS. The only person who would have that kind of bond with him is Tony.”

_Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god ohgodoh god. He’d failed, he’d failed, oh godohgodohgod._

The world narrowed and expanded, all noise fading out save the high-pitched ringing in his ears, his eyes unseeing as his heart thundered in his chest, beating an irregular rhythm that complemented his staccato breaths as he tried to suck in enough air. The world felt like it was going white, his brain blanking aside from periodic tidal waves that carried an ocean of unwelcome thoughts. He’d failed – he’d _failed, oh god, he’d failed, he couldn’t – people would get hurt – he hadn’t been enough, oh godohgodoh._

“JARVIS? FRIDAY? What’s happening?” He heard Natasha’s frantic voice as though from a long distance away, buried at sea in his mind, though he was present enough to realize he’d somehow ended up on the floor, curled up with his back against a wall. 

“Sir is experiencing a panic attack, Agent Romanov,” JARVIS responded, his voice somehow calm and yet tinged with worry.

“What can I do?” Natasha asked immediately.

“Not upset him in the first place,” FRIDAY said snippily.

“Miss FRIDAY, that is not helpful,” JARVIS chided. “It helps Sir when someone talks to him.”

Without another word, Natasha dropped down beside Jay, lowering her face so it was in front of his, his unseeing eyes staring into hers. “Hey, zvyozdochka, it’s okay, everything’s okay, you’re safe here.” She paused, turning to look up at the ceiling. “Can I touch him?”

“Keep your hands to yourself, missy,” FRIDAY snapped.

“Yes, Agent Romanov,” JARVIS responded, talking over the other AI. “Touch doesn’t hurt, and it does sometimes help ground him.”

Natasha nodded, sliding so that she was seated next to Jay and tugging him so that his head rested in her lap as she ran her fingers through his hair. “Did I ever tell you about the time Clint nearly got kicked out of SHIELD for breaking a guy’s nose for me?” she asked, her voice calm and even as she stroked. “It was right after I’d gotten back from an op where I was supposed to keep an eye on some Latvian diplomat. We’d been tipped off that there was going to be an attempt on his life, and SHIELD sent me to go undercover at the gala he was attending. Well, in order to get close enough but keep my cover, I ended up dancing with this woman who was absolutely stunning and an _amazing_ dancer. When the diplomat left the dance floor, the woman and I both made our excuses, and I went to follow him – only to spot her doing the exact same thing. Come to find out _she_ was the one I was supposed to be protecting him from.

“So I did what any good agent would do in my situation – I seduced her in the room next door to my target. When I made it back to SHIELD the next day, one of the agents started harassing me about my “crude lesbian behavior.” He had the misfortune of being within earshot of Clint, and Clint punched him right in the face for it. Coulson was pissed, but he was more pissed at the other agent for his remarks, so Clint got off with a warning.”

There was a momentary silence, Natasha smiling faintly at the memory and Tony’s ragged breaths echoing between them.

“The other agent was lucky _Clint’s_ the one who punched him. You probably woulda taken all his internal organs or something.” At the sound of Tony’s shaky voice, Natasha’s eyes darted down, noting with relief that his breathing was evening, and he was looking more aware, glancing up at her. Her heart twisted. _God_ , he looked so young, his face still too-pale under that mess of dark hair, and she was seized with a fierce need to protect him, though she knew he’d loudly shout her down if she ever vocalized that desire.

“Nah, I save that threat for the important people,” she returned with a small smile, recalling his words inside a donut shop all those years ago. He chuckled, though he still looked strained, and she resumed running her fingers through his hair comfortingly. He appeared not to notice, but she noted that his shoulders relaxed ever-so-slightly at the touch. “I’m sorry I scared you, zvyozdochka,” she said softly. “I would never do anything to hurt you, regardless of what name you go by.”

He was quiet, and Natasha let the silence sit now that Tony had come out of his panicked haze, stroking his hair wordlessly. Eventually he shifted, pushing himself into a sitting position, and she let her hands drop into her lap, watching him and waiting. He watched her in return, those too-intelligent eyes piercing, and she felt like she could see the gears turning in his head as he reconciled himself with the knowledge that Natasha knew now. She could see the fear there, the worry and concern that had prompted the panic attack in the first place, though she wasn’t sure what the exact cause of that fear was; she suspected it had something to do with his lack of trust in her, which stung a little but wasn’t unexpected in the slightest. 

“So,” he said finally.

“So,” she repeated back to him, a faint smile quirking at her lips. He looked at her, eyes measuring.

“So what now?” he asked, and his face was blank enough that Natasha could only just barely spot the concern under the mask. That level of skill in making one’s face unreadable – well, that was only further proof that _Jay_ couldn’t possibly be who he said he was, not that Natasha needed any further evidence. That was an expressionlessness that was born of decades in front of the media, and, while Natasha _hated_ seeing it aimed at her, she couldn’t deny the flare of pure, unadulterated happiness that she was right, _she was right_ , that their Tony wasn’t gone, that he’d been right here with them the whole time.

“Now,” she said evenly, her voice carefully neutral, “now, _hopefully_ , you tell me the truth.”

“And after?” he asked, his eyes guarded and challenging, and Natasha was hit with a wave of understanding.

“That’s up to you,” she said simply, and he looked at her a hint disbelievingly.

“Really.” He was dubious.

“Really,” Natasha said, meeting his eyes steadily.

And whatever he saw there seemed to convince him, because, in the next moment, he was talking. He told her about Siberia as it had happened from his perspective. He told her about waking up after the fact, of finding out what had been done to him. He told her about figuring out what all that entailed and coming to terms with it, about the struggle it had been to feel more machine than human. He told her about agonizing over what to do, what steps he could take to hurt the smallest number of people, how he could present the situation in a way that didn’t result in repercussions for other enhanced individuals. He told her about the nightmares he’d had in the months after featuring what Steve had done to him, or the team’s hate-twisted smirks as they betrayed him, or what could happen to millions of innocents if he didn’t play his cards right. He told her about the time alone and out of the public eye, of the loneliness that interrupted the peace. And he told her about how it had felt to be alone still after the whole team had come back, isolated by the knowledge that he was lying to them but terrified of ruining lives if he blew his secret. 

And while he talked, she listened quietly, silent, though each and every word was giving her a surreal feeling. Tony was alive. Tony was _alive_. She’d suspected the truth for a while, now, but to _hear_ him admit it? To hear him confirm that he was okay? That he hadn’t been _killed_ by Wanda’s trick – by their mistakes?

_Bozhe moi_ , it was everything.

Although hearing him describe what had happened for him to _not_ die and all the recovery after – that part was draining some of the delight away, replacing it with a renewed sadness at all that someone she considered one of her closest confidants had been put through.

They hadn’t seen Jay without his masks, Natasha came to realize while he spoke; even when he’d seemed open and vulnerable, he’d still held back from them, and they’d never realized. Because if he’d dropped his masks around him, they would have known he couldn’t be who he said he was in an _instant_ \- because the man in front of her right now looked _old_ , far older than any 21-year-old boy could look, even one who’d lost his father and come into an unexpected legacy. His eyes were too haunted, more so even than they’d been in her memories of Tony the last time they’d met, and his shoulders bent under the weight of far too many years for someone who appeared so young. 

This was Tony, her Tony, and pleasure wove in with heartbreak as what that meant truly sank in for her. 

“I’m sorry, zvyozdochka,” she said softly when Tony had fallen silent, staring at his hands. He looked at her, face puzzled, strangely innocent in his apparent youth.

“For what?”

“For what you’ve been through. For letting Wanda too close. For hurting you.”

He smiled at her, a tiny one that tugged at a heart most people would swear didn’t exist. “You’ve already apologized for that,” Tony said knowingly, and Natasha couldn’t contain her surprise, thinking back to their talk in the kitchen. “You knew that night, when you asked me if I thought my dad would forgive you, didn’t you?”

Her lips curled up into a smile, privately delighted. Tony had _seen_ her, and it felt good to be noticed. “I suspected,” she corrected. “I didn’t really _know_ until JARVIS.”

Tony blew out a breath, the last of his tension seeming to drain out of his shoulders and humor entering his eyes. “Should’ve known that JARVIS would be the one to blow it for me. He always gets me into trouble.”

“Yes, _I’m_ the reason you have such trouble keeping a low profile,” JARVIS responded snootily, and Natasha smirked as Tony snorted.

“I should’ve told FRI and Viz they could leave out your sarcasm coding,” he said with a brilliant grin, eyes twinkling up towards the ceiling.

“Not sure there’s any such thing, Boss,” FRIDAY piped up.

“Of course there is! Where _else_ would all that sass come from?” Tony demanded.

“It’s a real mystery,” Natasha drawled, and Tony shot her a betrayed look.

“Why,” he lamented mournfully, “do I let _anyone_ down here when all you all do is gang up on me?” Natasha simply gave him an amused look, and Tony pouted, punching her lightly on the arm. “Meanie.”

Natasha smirked and punched him back.

“Ow!” he cried, theatrically rubbing his arm. “DUM-E, U, Butterfingers? Are you all really going to let Itsy Bitsy beat up your old man like this? Come on, boys, defend your dad’s honor!” Tony called, and the bots let out beeping noises that, to Natasha’s ears, sounded more scolding than concerned. Realizing his bots were leaving him to Natasha’s tender mercies, Tony stuck his tongue out at them. He’d opened his mouth, probably to threaten to donate them as he had countless times in Natasha’s memories, when JARVIS interrupted.

“Sir, I hate to interrupt what would undoubtedly be a fear-inducing threat, but there has been some odd activity on an old server.”

Tony frowned, tilting his head. “Okaaay,” he drew out. “What about it, J? I’m assuming it’s something important, because you know I don’t care if one of the interns is pulling up old project notes or something.”

“It’s from SHIELD data files, Sir.”

At that, both Tony and Natasha snapped to attention, Tony stalking over to his screens. “What files were they trying to access, JARVIS? And did they get in?”

“How do you have SHIELD’s old files?” Natasha demanded, and Tony’s eyes flicked to her before returning to the screens where JARVIS was pulling up the information.

“When SHIELD fell and all those files were released online, JARVIS and I did our best to find any sensitive data that could get innocents killed – either by release of ongoing undercover operatives’ names and missions, or release of information that could be used to undermine other government agencies, or details on projects that got scrapped because they’d bring too much harm that could be brought to fruition by the wrong hands – and we hid it on our servers,” he explained, distracted as his eyes ran over the data JARVIS was showing him.

“Did you look through all of it?” Tony shook his head.

“No, we got started – and then Ultron happened, and everything kind of spiraled from there. I haven’t been back to it. Only reason I haven’t deleted all of it is in case there’s something in there that someone might need someday, or that could help us in a mission.”

“They appear to have been attempting to access SHIELD’s notes on your Iron Legion. It is unclear whether or not they managed to accomplish their goal,” JARVIS said. Tony frowned at the mention of the Iron Legion, and that frown deepened at the answer to his second question.

“Unclear? What does that mean?”

“Whatever medium was being used to attempt access the files…it has a very unusual data signature. I am uncertain how exactly it is working or how to track it.”

And now Tony was looking _worried_ , which Natasha knew from experience was _not_ a good sign.

“What is it, Tony? What’s wrong?”

“If it’s something _JARVIS_ doesn’t know or recognize…that’s trouble, Nat,” Tony murmured, not taking his eyes off the screen, and the Black Widow had a rare feeling that she’d last experienced in Budapest – something was about to go very, very wrong. 

 

Jay spent the next couple of days _busy_ \- too busy, thankfully, to spend all that much time obsessing over the fact that Natasha _knows_. He used Extremis to coordinate with JARVIS and FRIDAY, trying to trace the strange presence that had been attempting to access their files. He’d been able to see what they meant about the data signature being _off_ ; it was like nothing he’d ever seen before. It certainly wasn’t someone using a computer trying to access the files – in fact, the presence resembled JARVIS or FRIDAY’s signatures more than that. Or his signature, even.

It was bizarre. But after two days, FRI and J were insisting that he leave his workshop for at least a couple of hours, and Jay was beginning to feel like he’d made a Very Big Mistake putting both of them online at the same time; he was _definitely_ outnumbered by the mother hens now. 

So, grumbling the entire way, he headed upstairs, stumbling into the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee, knowing it would piss his AIs off – they kept insisting he wasn’t getting enough sleep, but what did they know? 

“Jay! You came up for air,” Natasha greeted him with a smile as he entered, seated at the table and sipping from a mug. Steve and James jolted, eyes flying to him at her words, and Jay was startled by the broad grin he got from Steve and the pleased expression from James. “Any luck?” Natasha prompted him, and he blinked, tearing his gaze away to meet her knowing eyes. He could feel himself flush, and he ducked his head and headed for the coffeemaker.

“None yet,” he responded, a sulky note entering his voice. “And JARVIS and FRI banished me from the labs until I ‘behaved like a proper human for a while,’ as they so lovingly put it.”

“Your wellbeing is our utmost priority, Sir,” JARVIS chimed in helpfully, and, without looking, Jay flipped off one of the cameras.

“My wellbeing would be a lot weller if I could find whoever tried to hack our files,” he grumbled.

“I’m not sure ‘weller’ is a word,” Steve said, his voice amused, and Jay shot him a dirty look over his shoulder.

“So you don’t have any idea who could’ve done it?” James asked, and Jay shook his head, pushing a few buttons on the machine and sighing with relief when it started brewing. He turned around to face them, leaning against the counter. Natasha had filled the rest of the team in after she’d left his workshop – or, she’d told him she would, so he assumed that’s what had happened. 

“None yet,” he responded. “All we know is that whoever or whatever it is isn’t normal.”

“That’s comforting,” Natasha said drily, and he gave her a shit-eating grin.

“You know me, darlin’, I aim to please,” he drawled.

“Well, you aren’t Hawkeye, so I guess it’s not too surprising that you miss often enough,” she shot back, and he grinned delightedly. Yeah, it was weird that she knew – but it was also strangely freeing? It had been weirder pretending like they didn’t have a history, like she didn’t know him better than most of the world. Being able to revert to the same ease and camaraderie they’d used to have? Well, it was honestly really nice. He didn’t get to have that sort of familiarity when Pepper and Rhodey weren’t around, and they’d been extremely busy lately, not that he begrudged them that in the slightest. So being able to fall back into the rapport that they’d cultivated over the years was _comforting_.

It was also _noticeable_ , if the look James and Steve exchanged was anything to go by. 

“Anyway, JARVIS and FRI are going to keep working on it while I behave myself – “ he politely ignored Natasha’s indelicate snort. “ – and hopefully we’ll have some better news soon.”

“Sirs, Ma’am, the Avengers’ presence is being requested in midtown,” JARVIS broke in, and the four were immediately on alert.

“What’s the situation, JARVIS?” Steve asked, his Captain America voice coming to the forefront.

JARVIS flipped on the TV in the kitchen (yes, Jay had one of those, you never knew where you might need to watch the news! Case in point, thank you!), and the channel it pulled up was currently broadcasting footage of what looked to be a fleet of robots attacking civilians.

“Hey, I know those drones,” Jay said suddenly, eyes narrowing. “Those are Hammer drones. What the hell are they doing attacking people?”

“It appears that Justin Hammer has been contacted and he is unaware of any reason his tech would be in that area, let alone engaging citizens,” JARVIS responded. “He has attempted to shut them down with a kill switch, but they did not go down.”

“Right. Avengers, assemble,” Steve said determinedly, and Jay signaled his AIs to relay the message to the rest of the team.

They were on the jet with the exception of Jay and Sam within the next few minutes, and Jay summoned his suit, him and Sam taking to the sky with the quinjet hot on their heels. Jay didn’t even have a moment to feel jittery over his first mission as the new Iron Man – the first time he’d worn the armor into battle since Siberia. The destruction they witnessed when they reached midtown was distressing – but thankfully, it didn’t look as though anyone had been killed. Yet.

“Alright, team, Falcon and Iron Man, keep to the skies and take out their fliers as best you can. Iron Man, give Clint a lift to a rooftop. The rest of us will split up on the ground, form a perimeter as best we can to keep them from spreading out any further,” Steve ordered. “Once we have – “

But whatever he was going to say next, Jay missed; he and Sam had reached the first group of drones, and, when the drones noticed their approach, they turned as one and shot towards the two heroes. 

“Shit!” he heard Sam yelp, and Jay lost sight of the other man, diving evasively, spiraling and shooting at the drones as he went. 

“What the fuck?” he heard Clint mutter over the coms.

“Follow Iron Man!” Steve yelled, presumably at whoever was piloting the quinjet, and Jay was confused until he pulled out of his dive – and realized every single drone was following him.

“I’d like to second Clint,” he yelped, blasting the two that were closest before darting away.

“Falcon, can you get any of them off Iron Man’s tail?” Steve asked frantically.

“On it!”

Jay kept shooting forward, mind whirring over possibilities as he dodged the drones’ shots. And then he cursed his own stupidity – the drones were _tech_ , and he was a fucking _technopath_. Jesus, if there was any battle where his skills would come in handy, it was this one – and he hadn’t even _thought_ of it till now. He’d like to blame this on the whole 40-something years without powers.

Focusing, he connected to Extremis – which wasn’t hard, since he was already partially integrated since he’d called up the suit. He closed his eyes, trusting his connection to the HUD screen to keep himself from crashing into anything, then sought out the drones. They flared like tiny little pinpricks of light in his network, and he could see the tangled web that connected them together, pulsing oddly. Concentrating on their glows, he _pulled_ , tugging at the lights until they blinked out one by one.

“Whoa, what the hell is happening?” Sam called, but Jay didn’t let himself get distracted, finding and tugging at each light until there was only one left.

He came to a stop, hovering in midair as he turned to face the last drone. The metal face looked at him dispassionately, and Jay focused in on it, mentally taking note when Sam and the quinjet came to hover off to the side. But the remainder of his concentration stayed with the drone as he engaged with its network, slipping down the webs that had tangled it up with the others and searching for the link to the one who’d controlled them all.

“Are his eyes usually that blue?” he heard Scott whisper.

“Dude, his eyes are usually brown,” Clint whispered back.

“They’re _glowing_.”

“Is he alright?”

“What’s he doing?”

“Trying to concentrate here,” Jay said through gritted teeth, and they fell silent. He slid through the drone’s networks, searching, searching, searching. And then the network flared bright – but it wasn’t anything Jay had done, he knew that much. No, whoever was controlling this drone was accessing it, and he tensed, ready for a fight.

“I am coming for you,” the drone said in an emotionless monotone, and Jay jerked, yanking out of the network so quickly his head spun to stare at the drone hovering dispassionately in midair.

“What?” he blurted, eyes wide.

“I am coming for you,” the drone repeated, and then the glow faded from its eyes and it dropped, falling thousands of feet until it crashed against the ground, breaking into pieces. Jay stared after it, shocked.

“Well, that’s not ominous,” Clint muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bozhe moi – my god (this was pulled directly from what she said in the first Avengers movie, so I’m assuming it’s a reasonable phrase to use??? Idk, I apologize to any Russian speakers who are like ‘pls stop butchering’)
> 
> Also, so yeah I slipped into Natasha's POV for a bit there, where she was internally referring to him as Tony. Sorry if that was confusing to anyone, I couldn't figure out a spot for a good line break without interrupting the flow, so I kind of just switched over mid-scene, which I hate to do but. It is what it is D:
> 
> again!!! sorry if this chap wasn't as good as the others, I def struggled with it! I'll try to be back on my A-game for the next one!!!! thank you guys for sticking with me <33


	10. Recon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jay should really get some sleep, Stucky may or may not be a thing, and the ducklings are nosy af.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow it has been _forever_
> 
> first off, i'm sooooooo sorry it's been so long - but I finally took my huge step 1 exam and started my third year of med school!! now that exam is over, hopefully the next chapters will be more quick to come out.
> 
> second, this chapter is not proofread but i wanted to get it out to anyone who's waiting on it, so if you catch any glaring mistakes pls let me know.
> 
> third, i'm super sorry for the quality of this chapter. it's a lil bit of a bridge chapter that was necessary for explanationy things, so it's a lil dry. also, ngl, it fought me the whole way. idk if it's bc it's been a while since i've gotten to write for this story or bc I'm POOPED, but i had a lot of trouble churning this one out. the next chapter is much more action-packed so hopefully it should be better. sorry for the poor quality and for the hella long delay!!! hope you guys enjoy regardless, and I'll try to get the next one out quicker <3

Helen Cho had had a long day. Her patients had been demanding, her research projects were stagnant, and she was ready for a drink. Or perhaps just bed – one of the two sounded perfect right now. 

Her research lab was quiet by the time she finally sighed and decided she was finished, the students and staff having long since cleared out at a more reasonable hour. Later, she would wonder how she’d missed the tell-tale whirring and shifting that she was certain had to have hissed their way through her lab when it was so deadly silent otherwise. She’d blame her exhaustion, her weariness, her eagerness to finally be done and go home for the day – but in the end, it wouldn’t matter.

In the end, her lack of attention meant she was caught unawares (though, if she was honest with herself, she was fairly certain the outcome would have been the same even if she had been aware).

In the end, she came face to face with a pair of glowing eyes on a metal face that spouted sinister demands.

In the end, she was destined to repeat the nightmare she’d experienced only a few years prior.

 

 

“What the fuck do you mean we can’t trace the signal, J?”

JARVIS’s silence was equal parts discontent and disapproving. “I’m sorry, Sir, but it appears whatever comprises the drones’ signal is too different from known patterns for us to trace back to its source.”

Jay stared blankly at the screen. “So we have nothing. Still,” he summarized, voice flat. It had been weeks since the first attack by the drones with their cryptic message, and there had been several more attacks since then, each progressively more difficult for Jay to fend off, which both frustrated and panicked him.

“Indeed, Sir.”

Thankfully, FRIDAY chose this moment to interrupt. “Boss, your guests are upstairs.”

“Guests? What guests? I didn’t invite any guests. FRIDAY, who’s here?” Jay asked, bewildered.

“Your stress levels have been concerningly high over the past week, so I took the liberty of inviting Mr. Parker and Mr. Keener to assist in correcting this.”

Jay blinked, then glared at one of the cameras. “Seriously, FRI? I’m an _adult_ , I can take care of myself,” Jay said petulantly.

“All due respect, Sir, your age, mental or physical, has no bearing on your ability to take care of yourself – or lack thereof,” JARVIS interjected, tone snitty. 

“You’re so donated to the local college. _So_ donated,” Jay grumbled standing up and making his way over to the elevator. 

“If it pleases you, Sir,” JARVIS said serenely.

Jay was still grumbling about meddling AIs and community colleges when he stepped off the elevator on ground floor. Ahead of him, he could hear voices chattering, and he had enough presence of mind even after his four-day lab binge to feel a bit wary about what mischief his two ducklings could be getting up to. Striding into the kitchen, he could see he’d been right to be worried; Harley and Peter were eyeing the Avengers with suspicion and dislike, Peter standing with his arms crossed and Harley looking downright hostile as he glared at a vaguely terrified-looking Steve.

“ – mean to tell us there was _absolutely no way_ you could’ve figured out bashing in a teammate’s chest with your shield was _wrong_? The witch prevented even _that_ from being common sense?” Harley was saying accusatorily.

“I – I wasn’t – “ Steve stuttered, eyes wide and horrified, and Jay coughed pointedly as he stepped into the kitchen. Peter spun guiltily, but Harley just cocked an eyebrow at him. Steve was half-hiding behind the kitchen island and looked like he was unsure whether to be relieved to see Jay or worried Jay was about to jump in. Jay had to hide a smirk at how utterly petrified the super soldier looked at being confronted by the two small yappy children that he maintained Harley and Peter truly were inside. 

“Children, I know you’re not terrorizing the superheroes because a) you’re smarter than that, and b) you know they saved my ass and I kind of want to keep them around for the foreseeable future,” Jay said flatly and was rewarded with a beatific smile from Peter and an unimpressed look from Harley.

“Not terrorizing, just asking some pertinent questions to determine how suitable they are to _keep_ protecting you,” Harley said breezily, clapping Steve on the shoulder, though he had to reach nearly straight up to do it. Jay snickered at the sight, and Harley glared at him.

“Well stand down, small infant children, my AIs and I have vetted these guys. They’re in the clear,” Jay said, rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t vet anyone,” FRIDAY piped up immediately.

“Nor did I,” JARVIS said, a touch of amusement in his voice, and Jay turned to aim an incredulous stare at one of the cameras, irritation shooting through him.

“Seriously, guys? You can’t back me up one time?”

“Sorry, Boss.”

“My apologies, Sir. We endeavor only to keep you safe and believed perhaps you had _meant_ to vet your guests and simply forgotten.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s _exactly_ what you believed,” Jay said sarcastically. He huffed out an annoyed breath then turned back to the room. “ _Regardless_ , everyone here is _welcome_ and will be treated as such, am I understood?” he said, voice steely as he glared at Peter and Harley. Peter looked fairly abashed, but Harley just rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Fine. We’ll play nice,” his sass-monster responded grumpily, folding his arms.

“Great,” Jay said drily, rubbing his temple where a headache was already forming. He should never have left the lab. “Now that the fucking soap opera bullshit is out of the way, how about some introductions?” Without waiting on a response, he gestured at Steve who was still semi-cowering, James who was pressed close and standing stiffly behind him, Natasha who was smirking at the half-traumatized super soldiers from the kitchen table, and Clint who was simply looking at the group in bemusement beside Natasha. “Guys, this is Steve, James, Nat, and Clint. Team, meet Harley and Peter, two of my friends who also knew my dad, which is why they were being enormous dicks to you a minute ago.”

“Wow, just bring up my enormous dick in conversation why don’t you,” Harley deadpanned, and a small snort escaped from James – without his volition, if the startled look on the former-assassin’s face was anything to judge by.

“Yeah, I see how that one was friends with Tony,” Clint sighed, drumming his fingers on the table, and Natasha caught Jay’s eyes and winked, dragging a small smirk out of him. 

“Anyway,” Jay said, drawing the word out before turning to Harley and Peter. “Why are you two here?”

“Wow, rude,” Harley declared immediately, and Jay rolled his eyes at the false-affronted tone the boy took. “We come all this way for _you_ , and you just – “

“Oh my god, don’t be such a drama queen, I just wanna know why,” Jay interrupted with a very put-upon sigh. 

“FRIDAY said you needed a distraction. She said you hadn’t left the lab in four days,” Peter piped up, aiming his charming little grin at Jay. 

“And you guys just… _came_?” Jay asked, trying to keep the disbelieving note out of his voice – and not succeeding very well, if the look the boys exchanged was anything to go by.

“’Course we did, dumbass, FRI-baby wouldn’t tell us you needed us if you didn’t, and you’re our _friend_ ,” Harley said in the ‘duh’ voice that all teenagers seemed to possess, walking over and slinging an arm around Jay’s shoulders.

“Yeah, plus we missed you! It was fun plotting world dom – uh, _architecture_ with you last time,” Peter said excitedly, glancing around surreptitiously to see if anyone had noticed his slip – not that any of the superheroes in the building would’ve been worried. Really, Peter’s adorable concern at being overheard and complete lack of discretion while checking for reactions were all any of the super soldiers and spies would’ve needed to classify Peter very firmly in the category of Not Overlord Material. 

“Did he just say you hadn’t left the lab in four days, doll?” Jay had gotten so involved in his strangely emotionally-charged conversation with his younglings that he’d almost forgotten the others were even in the room, and his eyes snapped to a surprisingly stern-looking James Barnes. 

“Uh, yeah?” Jay said, voice turning up at the end and making the question a statement. James’s face darkened further, and Steve looked concerned.

“Have you eaten or slept during that time?” Steve asked, and Jay squinted his eyes, trying to think.

“Mayyyyybe?” he finally settled on responding when he couldn’t remember.

“Sir has _not_ eaten or slept during that time,” came JARVIS’s exasperated response, and then two sets of accusing super soldier eyes were on him, along with the eyes of two very unimpressed chicklets. Jay held his hands up in surrender.

“Hey, I don’t need as much food or sleep as a normal person, remember?” he said defensively before any of them could get a word out. “Plus there was a lot of work to do. I mean, there’s been four more attacks at this point, and all of them have been getting harder and harder for me to shut down, so, like – I was doing it for the good of the world. You can’t fault me for that!”

James glowered at him, eyes intense. “That’s not how it works, kid. You may not need as much food and rest as a normal person, but you still need _some_. You can’t just run yourself into the ground for this.”

Steve nodded firmly, James at his back. “What would we do if we got called to assemble and you were too exhausted to pilot the suit?” he reasoned, and Jay felt an uncomfortable pang in his belly but waved the worry off.

“I could still pilot the suit right now and it would be fine,” he reassured them. They didn’t look reassured, which only served to grate on his nerves more. He was a fucking adult. He could do what he wanted, and if he wanted to stay up long hours to work on this, he’d fucking do it.

“Maybe, but we wouldn’t let you,” Steve said resolutely. “That level of sleep deprivation means your reflexes would be shot, and we couldn’t risk you like that – or anyone else, with you operating heavy machinery with lots of firepower.”

Growing increasingly irritated, Jay threw up his hands. “Fine, I won’t pilot the suit right now. Happy?” he asked venomously. “Wouldn’t wanna be a danger to others.” James looked a little surprised at his vehemence, but Steve only gave him a small, understanding smile.

“Or yourself, Jay. We want _you_ to be safe and happy, too. You need rest, sweetheart,” he said with a pointed look, and though he didn’t state it outright, Jay caught his meaning. His first reaction was to take offense – but honestly, that exact reaction might be indicative that what Cap was wordlessly saying was true: he was on a hair-trigger, where everything was irritating him and he was acting out. 

Deflating, Jay sighed. “Yeah, yeah. You two old codgers worry too much,” he grumbled without heat and was rewarded for his apparent capitulation with small smiles from the super soldier duo.

“Only because you don’t look out for yourself enough,” Steve countered, and Jay rolled his eyes.

“You’re not gonna convince him, Stevie, he’s too stubborn for that,” James interjected, elbowing the blond man before turning his attention back to Jay. “I’m gonna make you a sandwich and you’re gonna tell us what you and your bots found, doll.”

Knowing arguing was futile, Jay just sighed and sank into one of the open seats at the kitchen table across from Natasha. He gestured at the other open chairs and looked at Peter and Harley pointedly, and they took the hint and joined him as James started searching through cabinets. “We haven’t found anything. Not a goddamn thing,” Jay said tiredly, rubbing his face with his hands, and Steve, Nat, and Clint shot him a concerned look that he ignored. “We’ve had, what – four encounters with these weird drones now? And each time their signature has changed just a little, gotten a little stronger, a little harder to pin down.”

“Are we sure they’re all from the same source?” Natasha asked, and Jay was nodding before she’d even quite finished the sentence.

“Yes, whoever or whatever is sending them, all the attacks were coordinated by the same person or group. The fundamental coding is too similar for any of the attacks to be from different sources,” Jay responded. “The changes between each attack are minimal – but they’re really important.”

“Yeah no shit, you were barely able to shut down the last attack,” Clint said, brow furrowed, and Jay nodded grimly.

“Right. Whoever’s coding them is figuring out how my power works and figuring out ways around it,” Jay agreed.

“And how are they doing that exactly?” Steve prompted as James slid a plate with a nice, neat PB&J in front of Jay, who smiled gratefully at him. James winked and stepped back, returning to Steve’s side behind the island, leaning onto his elbows.

“It’s kind of hard to explain,” Jay admitted, taking a bite of the sandwich and swallowing quickly. “Basically, I’m interfacing with tech in a way that allows me to edit code in the drones and tell them to shut down or just rip the code apart and make them hunks of metal. So I’m controlling the tech, I’m _not_ controlling the _person_ at the other end of the tech – my power doesn't work like that. So whoever’s coding them seems to be making it so that they progressively have more and more _direct_ control over the drones, which means I’d have to be controlling _them_ to shut the drones down, rather than controlling the _drones_.”

Blank stares met his explanation, and Jay frowned. “Sure, kid,” Clint said agreeably with a small shrug. “Honestly, makes about as much sense as everything else in our lives. So what I’m hearing is that it’s making it so that your power can’t touch the drones, and it’s weird enough that you, JARVIS, and FRIDAY can’t figure out how to track it.”

“Pretty much,” Jay agreed, relieved and biting into his sandwich. 

“Great,” Clint said sardonically. “So now what?”

“Honestly? I have no idea.”

Grim looks were exchanged by the Avengers at that pronouncement, though Harley and Peter mostly just looked mildly confused. 

“Alright, that’s enough shop talk,” Steve finally decided. “I’m pretty sure FRIDAY called Peter and Harley so they could _distract_ Jay from all of his work, not so we could hijack him.”

“Quite right, Captain,” FRIDAY chimed in, her typically-sniffy tone when speaking to Steve slightly warmer than usual. 

“Cool, that means we can talk about more interesting shit – like what the fuck is going on between Cap and his old ‘buddy’,” Clint declared immediately, aiming a shit-eating grin in the super soldiers’ direction. Jay blinked, the subject change unseating him enough that he didn’t immediately catch onto the direction Clint’s mind was heading.

He didn’t appear to be alone in his confusion. “What do you mean?” Peter asked, and Clint’s eyes glinted wickedly as Steve reddened and James got progressively stiller.

“Just that our resident geriatrics department is shacking up, finally,” Clint said smugly, and Jay felt his heart give a funny swoop. He controlled his face with effort, careful not to let anything slip through, though Natasha shot him a concerned look. For their part, Steve and James looked to be a mixture of shocked and embarrassed, with Steve red-faced and wide-eyed and James motionless and emotionless. 

“What?” Harley shrieked, animosity towards the duo forgotten in the face of such big news. “Captain America and the Winter Soldier are _fucking_?”

“Language,” Jay said automatically, at the same exact time as both Steve and James. He coughed awkwardly as the pair exchanged looks. “Congrats, guys,” he said, trying to make his voice upbeat and excited for them. 

“We’re not together,” Steve blurted quickly, looking like the words nearly burst out of him. James nodded his stoic agreement at his side. 

“Liar!” Clint declared, pointing an accusing finger at the duo. “Barnes has been spending the night in your room for the past three nights in a row, and you’re going _everywhere_ together, and you’re always whispering and looking like you’re plotting something.”

“We always go everywhere together,” Steve insisted, face bright red but eyes determinedly looking straight at Clint and nowhere else. Harley and Peter for their parts just looked fascinated, looking back and forth between Clint and the super soldiers. Natasha’s expression was blank, but Jay would swear he could see the faintest hint of concern in her eyes. Jay didn’t even want to know what his face looked like right now.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t known there was a possibility of Steve and James getting together; hell, the chemistry between the two of them was basically legend at this point, with the number of comics and movies made about it over the decades. And Jay had been shut up in his lab for a _while_ now – outside of seeing them in team meetings, sparring practice, or when they were helping him bring FRIDAY back, he really hadn’t seen them at all in at least a month. And it wasn’t like they’d spent just a whole lot of time _before_ all that together – it wasn’t like they were _close_ or anything, outside of his overly active imagination. So it really shouldn’t have been any surprise to Jay that he hadn’t known the two had finally gotten together, and it definitely wasn’t any of his business, no matter how much the sinking feeling in his stomach wanted to beg to differ. He was going to be happy for them because they deserved their happiness, he decided.

“Yeah, but it’s different now,” Clint argued, gesturing between them emphatically. “You’re always _touching_ now. Like, _intimately_. It’s all _coupley_ and _domestic_.”

“Steve and I are not a couple,” James said quietly but firmly, folding his arms and looking increasingly intimidating. Jay tried to ignore both the part of him that breathed a sigh of relief at the words and the part that insisted that James was lying, schooling his face into a teasing expression with the practice of someone with decades of experience hiding his emotions.

“Aww, why not?” he whined, trying to force his voice into conveying some sort of _hope_ that the duo would get together. It was strangely difficult. What was _stranger_ was the brief look of hurt and disappointment that crossed Steve’s face at Jay’s words before it quickly disappeared; James was acting strange, too, eyes intently focused on Jay’s face as though searching for something. 

“Yeah, why not?” Jay’s eyes shot to Harley, slightly alarmed at the kid’s tone; it was both curious and mischievously delighted, and Jay was fairly certain no good could come of Harley sounding mischievous in any capacity. The kid was grinning knowingly, which upped Jay’s concern to approximately DEFCON 2 as the kid looked back and forth between Jay and the super soldiers with a shrewd glint in his eye. Peter was eyeing the three of them thoughtfully, and Jay debated upping the threat level to DEFCON 1 just based on that alone; a thoughtful Peter was a dangerous Peter. 

“We just – well – we don’t think we work together as a couple, just the two of us,” Steve stuttered out, face beet red by this point.

“ _Just_ the two of you? Does that mean you’re considering other options then?” Harley pressed, grin stretching wider, and Steve started sputtering, eyes wide, while James let out a choked noise. Jay decided to take pity on the centenarians.

“Harl, let’s not shock the geriatrics division into heart attacks with our weird, wild 21st century sex and relationship ways,” Jay said reprovingly, frowning, and Harley raised an unimpressed eyebrow, opening his mouth to protest, only to be beat to the punch.

“We know what polyamory is,” James said quietly. Jay’s eyes snapped to the super soldier, mouth open in surprise, only to find the man meeting his eyes steadily, face unreadable. Jay was shocked speechless, staring at the other man with a thousand thoughts flitting through his mind (the gist of which could be eloquently summed up as ‘???????’) – but Harley had no such problem.

“Do you, now?” he asked gleefully, grin hard and delighted.

“Yes,” Steve answered as James nodded without taking his eyes off Jay, who swallowed without entirely knowing why. 

“Oh my god,” Clint whispered, and that snapped Jay out of his thrall, eyes darting to the archer quizzically only to find Clint looking between the three of them – James, Steve, and Jay – with a dawning comprehension that Jay was fairly certain meant he’d drawn the wrong conclusion.

“Yes, tupitsa,” Natasha said with an eyeroll. “ _Finally_ , you get it.”

“Holy shit, that’s…wow, just wow. Are they even…?”

“No.”

“Wow.”

“Yes. It’s very annoying.”

“Should we…?”

“No, they have to do this on their own.”

“Aww but then it might never happen!” Clint whined, and Jay was gratified to see baffled expressions on the faces of the others in the room as well; apparently the spy twins’ secret language was just as untranslatable to them as it was to him.

Natasha shrugged. “It’s for them to figure out. Zvyozdochka is smart, I have faith in him.”

Jay started at the sound of his nickname. “Hey, I know you’re talking about me!” he said indignantly, narrowing his eyes at Natasha. “That’s not very nice!”

“What are you, five?” Harley said with an exaggerated eye roll, and Jay stuck his tongue out at him. 

“Wait, I wanna know what Black Widow and Hawkeye were talking about, too,” Peter piped up, and Jay hid a grin at the kid’s more formal use of the spy twins’ superhero names. Clint and Nat looked similarly amused.

“We’ll tell you when you’re older, kiddo,” Clint said with a grin, eyes twinkling, and Natasha looked amused. Peter frowned, and Jay turned those words over in his mind, trying to parse out what the duo was getting at.

“Sirs and Madam, I hate to interject, but the Accords council has just sent troubling news,” JARVIS said, his voice worried, and Harley and Peter jumped, unused to the disembodied voice chiming in at random times after they’d forgotten about the AIs’ existence.

“What’s up, JARVIS?” Jay asked.

“Dr. Cho has gone missing – and she appears to have been carried off by drones.”

 

 

Playful conversation was set aside immediately as the Avengers convened in the conference room, Harley and Peter ducking out quickly with a promise to return as soon as Jay could see them again – but a fat lot of good it did. Three days later and they were no closer to answers than they’d been when JARVIS had first told them of Helen’s disappearance.

Jay was worried – near-terrified, really. The last time Dr. Cho had been held by someone, Ultron had nearly destroyed the world. It had taken the strong, amazing woman years to rebuild her faith in science and humanity, to move back into the research sphere with her head held high, and Jay was loathe to believe she might be forced into helping another evil asshole that should’ve been the Avengers’ lot to handle. 

James, Natasha, and Clint had flown out to Helen’s lab to look for any sort of clue that might give them an idea as to where or why Dr. Cho had been taken while Steve coordinated with the council and Jay, FRIDAY, and JARVIS tried to track her down using any and every electronic method they could conceive of. They found nothing; not a single street camera had picked up the doctor or the drones, there were no reports of drone sightings, and there was no activity on any of Helen’s bank cards or online accounts. 

They had nothing and they were getting desperate – and so Jay suggested the one thing he _really_ didn’t want to do.

“I’m going to talk to Ross,” he announced to a living room full of Avengers. Immediately, he was bombarded with aghast stares and angry shouts, though Natasha and Scott held their tongues. Jay stayed silent, patient, waiting for their anger to tire itself out.

“It’s too dangerous, Jay, you can’t go visit him – and why would you even want to?” Steve finally got the last word in, folding his arms decisively, but Jay was unimpressed.

“He knows something,” he said simply. “And we have no other leads.”

And that was that.

“Someone else should go,” James protested, eyes steely. “He tried to _kill_ you – anyone can question him, it shouldn’t be you.”

“It’s _my_ dad he referenced with his vague threat,” Jay reminded him. “There’s a chance that I’m the only one who’ll recognize what he’s talking about – unless any of you think you know my dad’s life stories better than me?” he challenged, eyeing them. The easy argument would honestly be that Natasha probably knew Tony better than a son who’d only known him one year, but Natasha knew the truth, so Jay knew she wouldn’t protest.

As he’d thought, no one spoke up. “Right then,” he said with a decisive nod. “I’m heading out then.”

And so he’d found himself heading for the Accords’ New York HQ, where they were holding Ross until a trial could be arranged. The ride was short and swift, Jay calling ahead to let the council know where he was headed and why and receiving their quick approval; the world remembered Ultron, and the council was as eager to catch Dr. Cho’s captor as he was. 

But in the scant moments between hanging up on the Accords council and arriving at HQ, something had happened – that much was clear from the doors hanging off their hinges at the entrance. Shattered glass was strewn over the entryway as Jay stepped through, immediately calling up the armor.

“JARVIS, call the council,” Jay commanded, HUD screen scanning the area. Several life forms flickered, identified quickly as unconscious Accords employees strewn about the atrium. There was very little blood or evidence of violence other than the shattered glass and sleeping civilians – in fact, Jay would’ve thought the employees had simply collapsed where they stood, if he had to hazard a guess – they were too perfectly arranged in their places of work to have had any time to respond to a threat. 

The phone rang a few times before it was finally picked up. “Stark?” a harsh whisper sounded over the line.

“What’s going on?” Jay asked immediately.

“Drones – drones came! They’re letting out some kind of concussive blast – it shatters glass and knocks out anyone in the room.”

“Where are they now?”

“Headed to the detention level.”

“On my way.”

Ending the call with a flick of his mind, Jay shot forward, making his way for the detention level as quickly as possible. With a thought, he sent a message summoning the rest of the team, mentally asking JARVIS to give them a rundown of the situation.

The way down to the detention level was ominously quiet, with Jay coming across unconscious Accords employees every few hundred feet, though he had yet to see a single drone. The detention level was grey, stark, and dark, seemingly decorated such that those who entering knew there was little chance of them leaving without the express approval of all involved parties.

It was eerie, it was creepy – and Jay barely noticed, eyes latching onto one very specific cell block with a familiar figure lying face-down and head angled to the side in a pool of blood, eyes open and empty.

“Ross is down,” Jay announced grimly when JARVIS patched him back through to the Accords council. There were noises of shock and dismay, but Jay ignored them in favor of a much closer-sounding disturbance, a clanging noise that vibrated off the walls. His eyes shot to the source as a drone shot into the air, punching its way through the floor, escaping. Jay reached out frantically with Extremis – and was immediately rebuffed, the force with which the drone’s interface repelled him almost knocking him on his ass.

“JARVIS, tell the team I’m following the drone and send them my location so they can follow,” Jay ordered, shooting off.

“Sir, I’m not sure that’s advisable – you don’t have backup, and – “

“Just do it, J!”

And with his eyes locked onto the drone, Jay took off after it, trusting that his team would find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tupitsa = dumbass


	11. Recur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The drones' puppeteer finally comes out to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so!! here's this one!! it's not quite as long as I thought it would be, but hopefully it still does everything justice. I hope you guys like it!!
> 
> first week of med school rotations was challenging but super fun, thank you for the encouraging notes you guys left me <33

The drone paid him no mind as it shot through the air. Jay was wary at first, expecting it to turn and shoot at him, but it appeared to have not noticed he was even following – or perhaps it _did_ notice, and Jay was giving it exactly what it wanted. Even if that was the case, though, he couldn’t just let it go back to its master to kill another day; no, he had to see this through to the end, find out who was controlling these drones and to what end.

Their flight took longer than Jay had been truly expecting, racing through the skies, darting around clouds, listening to JARVIS in his ear giving updates on the team’s progress following him out.

Then, almost out of nowhere, the drone suddenly dove, making for the ground with reckless abandon as Jay followed suit.

“Sir,” JARVIS said suddenly, voice concerned and ever-so-slightly confused, “Sir, these coordinates match the location of an old Stark Industries warehouse, one that was decommissioned.”

“Decommissioned? For how long? And why?” The ground was steadily hurtling closer as he spoke, wind whipping by as Jay followed the drone’s descent.

“It appears to have been a primary location for weapons storage and was closed in 2008, after your announcement following your return from Afghanistan.” The drone landed, a small pinprick on the ground that quickly disappeared inside what looked to be a dilapidated warehouse. Jay touched down a moment later, landing in a three-point stance before straightening. His suit scanned the building quickly, gliding over the rusted metal roof and cracked concrete walls, sliding past shattered windows and unhinged doorways before his HUD screen flashed the results of his signs of life scan at one. One single person inside this nightmare-induced building, the leader of the drones, Jay was certain.

Still, Jay hesitated. Could he handle one person? Probably, unless that person was far more superpowered than anyone they’d run up against so far. But considering the fact that his most recent attempt at influencing the drones had nearly landed him on his ass – he wasn’t sure he could count on being able to take down the drones with his technopathy, and there was no telling how many drones were inside since they wouldn’t register on his scans.

“How far out is the team?” he asked quietly, though he wasn’t sure why; whoever was here had to already know they had guests, so if someone here wanted to attack him, his quietness did nothing to protect him at the moment. Still, there was something about the atmosphere that made him reluctant to speak much louder than a whisper. Perhaps it was the stillness of the air, the sense of abandonment that cloaked the place; perhaps it was the eerie silence that permeated the area despite the fact that Jay knew there was at least one person and one being (creature? Entity? How did one refer to a drone?) in the building. Whatever the case may be, his old building demanded some form of respect.

“I estimate three minutes until their arrival,” JARVIS responded, and Jay nodded.

“May as well wait on them, then,” he decided; he was fairly confident this was the drone’s home base and that its puppeteer wouldn’t be going anywhere else, so he could afford to give the team a minute to catch up.

“A wise decision, Sir,” JARVIS approved, and Jay hid a smile. He was pretty sure he was going to get reamed for ditching the team after Ross had been killed – good Lord, Ross had been _killed_ \- by Steve and James already, so he could only hope his apparent responsible decision-making right now would save him from also getting yelled at by JARVIS.

“What do you think, J?” Jay asked quietly, and he could feel his AI thinking, processing.

“I think that I wish it were within my power to convince you to return to the Compound immediately, Sir,” JARVIS responded finally, his voice similarly soft, laced with a mixture of concern, trepidation, and resignation that Jay would’ve done anything to remove. Well, almost anything – he couldn’t bring himself to abandon the mission, not when he might be the team’s best chance at stopping whoever the drone-puppeteer was, considering his technological knowledge.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” he whispered finally, and he felt his AI brush gently against the back of his mind, offering comfort.

The quinjet touched down a moment later, landing silently a few feet from Jay, and the team piled out, already looking on edge. Jay retracted his helmet with a thought, face solemn as they approached.

“Report, Iron Man,” Steve snapped, in full Captain America mode as the team gathered.

“Accords HQ has been ransacked, Ross is dead and an unknown number of agents and civilians are down. I spotted a drone as it flew away from Ross’s cell, tried to interface with it and failed, so I flew after it. It landed here and went inside this decommissioned SI building. JARVIS scanned and found one lifeform inside, though he wouldn’t be able to pick up the drones, so we’re uncertain as to what sort of numbers we’re facing. I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to stop them this time, if they’re all like the drone I followed here,” Jay responded, and the team exchanged ominous looks.

“Acknowledged,” Steve said, eyes distant as their tactician thought through the best way to proceed. “Ant Man, you’re on recon, go in and let us know what we’re up against.”

“On it, boss!” Scott said immediately, pressing a button and shrinking.

Steve turned to the rest of them while they waited for their teammate to get far enough in to have anything to report. “Once we go in, Iron Man will take point. See if you can take them out with your powers first. If not, fall back and let Winter Soldier and me take point – we have the most experience with close combat, and I don’t imagine there will be much room to maneuver in that building. No matter what, stick together, team. Don’t let them separate us – we don’t know what their numbers are, and we’re a lot easier to pick off if we’re split up.”

The team was nodding as Scott’s voice came over the coms. “Uh, so far all I’m finding are a lot of creepy half-broken dead robot things. You don’t think they’re, like, _pretending_ to be dead to lure me in and that they’ll all suddenly come to life and kill me, right? Because that is _not_ the way I want to go.”

“Scott, this isn’t a Terminator movie. Arnold Schwarzenegger isn’t going to be bahck,” Jay said exasperatedly, a small smile tugging at his lips despite the seriousness of the situation.

“Do you _know_ that, though?” Scott pressed, sounding worried.

“C’mon, Tic Tac, you got this,” Sam reassured him wryly.

“Right, right,” Scott muttered over the coms, sounding more like he was talking to himself instead of them. “I’m the boss, I’m the boss, I’m the boss.”

“Anything other than broken bots, Ant Man?” Steve asked.

“Negative, Captain,” Scott reported, the epitome of professionalism, and Jay had to hold back a snicker, knowing the other engineer wouldn’t take kindly to it - but it had been clear from the beginning that Scott was a huge Captain America fanboy and sought out Steve’s approval at any time. “No signs of - wait.”

A moment of silence. “Ant Man?” Steve barked out. “Report. Are you okay?”

“You need to get in here. Now,” came the response. The team formed up immediately, Jay’s helmet snapping up as he took point with Steve and James at his heels.

Jay walked through the half-unhinged front door without hesitation but with no small amount of trepidation. His eyes flicked over the surroundings, searching for threats or anything that could’ve caused Scott’s alarm. Nothing was visible, but it was immediately clear Scott must be further inside; they were standing in a small entryway, what Jay assumed had been a sort of registration desk collapsed in on itself on the other side of the room. The room stank of mildew and rot, the stench of abandonment wafting around decayed furnishings and streaked walls.

Seeing no danger, Jay pressed forward, the team at his back, as they stepped past the registration desk and through a dark doorway, entering a stale corridor that ended in a creaking stairwell. At this point, Jay’s hackles were raised, and he didn’t blame Scott for making movie references anymore – if this had been a horror movie, they’d have been the dumb teens heading toward clear danger right now. As it was, Jay wasn’t certain he could necessarily discount them as fitting that stereotype, but they pressed on regardless.

Steve’s breath was hot on his neck, and Jay had a gauntlet raised and glowing to light the way as they descended the staircase, the light disappearing slowly but surely behind them, closing them in. Jay had the sudden sensation that they were being swallowed whole by the building, as though the corridor they’d just left would collapse now that they weren’t in it, prohibiting their retreat. It was silly, he knew, but he could help the ominous feeling he had the further they descended.

“I feel it, too, Sir,” JARVIS whispered in his ear, picking up the direction of his thoughts through Extremis.

“Stay close to me,” Jay whispered back, and JARVIS brushed against the back of his mind in response. Ahead of them, the HUD screen registered two lifeforms, red-hot blobs in the darkness, hidden behind a last doorway at the end of the staircase.

“We’re close,” Jay called quietly to the rest of the team, getting murmurs of acknowledgment in return. They crept closer, and Jay could hear his teammates readying their weapons as he reached out for the doorknob, turning it and pushing the door open.

“Hey, guys, I found Dr. Cho,” Scott greeted them with a small, intensely freaked-out smile from his position squatting beside a very distraught-looking Helen Cho, whose back was against the wall on the other side of the door.

“Helen,” Jay breathed, taking in her disarrayed hair, her dirtied clothes, the haunted look in her eyes as she looked at him. He retracted his helmet and dropped down beside her immediately, taking one of her trembling hands as the team filed in behind him and the door closed with a definitive ‘clang.’

“Tony, I’m sorry,” she choked out, eyes wide and pleading with him for forgiveness. “I’m so, so sorry.” Jay jolted at his name, and Scott stiffened beside her, looking at her questioningly, but she had eyes only for Jay.

And that confirmed for Jay in a way that nothing else had that something was very, very wrong – because he knew Helen would _almost_ never forget to call him by his chosen name, but she would _absolutely_ never ignore what that slip up would mean for Jay once she’d outed him.

“Helen, what – “ Jay started, but was interrupted.

“Tony, my boy,” said a voice straight out of Jay’s nightmares. Face freezing before sliding quickly into a blank mask, Jay straightened, turning and stepping so that he shielded Helen as he did so. He didn’t know what he’d expected to encounter when he turned, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight that greeted him.

The warehouse was all but empty of the weapons that had covered every surface during SI’s weapons manufacturing days, a few half-trashed computers and empty casings and shells littering the floor, underfoot of what Jay estimated to be thirty drones standing at attention with glowing eyes focused on the Avengers huddled in the doorway.

And there, at the center, was a form he’d hoped never to see again – only the form had been twisted, a dangerous mockery that combined the two forms of a man Tony had once loved as a father.

“He made me,” Helen whimpered behind him, voice breaking. “He made me help him make a body free of technology. I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry, Tony, I – “ She broke off, and he could hear Scott calming her behind him, but he shook off his desire to comfort her. _Show no weakness or affection in front of your enemies because, if you do, you’re showing them the best way to hurt you._ It had been one of the worst lessons he’d learned from his former mentor – but one of the most useful at this moment.

“Obadiah,” he greeted, eyes hard but voice relaxed and flippant, taking a few casual steps forward. “That’s a new look for you. Valentino? Burberry?”

He was monstrous in appearance, looking as though someone had taken the Iron Monger suit and squished humanoid features onto the face before painting the whole thing in harsh shades of blue, silver, and black. Tony was reminded of Vision’s unnatural coloring and wondered absently how it was that Obadiah looked so much more inhuman than the synthezoid. But the overall advantage of this form was clear – for the body that his former mentor possessed appeared to have much of the gadgets that had been on the Iron Monger armor but was entirely organic and therefore outside the realm of Tony’s ability to influence.

“Ah, I’ve so missed your sense of humor, Tony,” Obadiah said, grinning a horrible, distorted grin.

“Yeah, sorry dude, but that’s not Tony, that’s his son,” Clint snapped, stepping up beside him, and Tony couldn’t quite hide a flinch. Obadiah, of course, noticed, and his smile widened.

“Lying to your teammates, my boy?” he clucked disapprovingly as he pinned Tony with a stare, eyes glinting with amused malice. “And you were so angry with the Captain for doing that to you. I never took you to be one for hypocrisy; other vices, yes – but you were always willing to own up to your own shortcomings. I suppose I should’ve known from that alone that you’d never be able to work with me in a business setting. Too soft, too… _good_.”

“How are you here?” Tony gritted out, ignoring his teammates at his back, head swirling in a confusing mixture of panic, fear, and fury that overtook all other thought, even the paralyzing anxiety of what his teammates would do now that his secret was in the open. From his periphery, he could see Natasha step up to his other side, offering silent support with a brush of her fingers against his wrist.

“I never left – not really,” Obadiah said, flashing his teeth in his parody of a smile. “I don’t know if you ever figured it out – I’m the one who got HYDRA to kill your parents – “ Tony froze, eyes wide and locked on Obadiah’s face, and he heard a choked noise that sounded like it came from James behind him. Obadiah paused, surveyed him and chuckled. “So you _hadn’t_ figured that part out yet. I did wonder. Anyway, I got HYDRA to kill your parents in exchange for joining the organization. It was a very beneficial partnership – they got all the new weapons advancements they could ever want, and I got the path cleared for me to take over the company.”

“But you left me alive,” Tony said, voice flat but inquiry obvious.

“Of course,” Obadiah said as though it was obvious. “You were much more brilliant than your father, and you were young enough to be molded – or so we thought. Your… _servant_ unfortunately had instilled a set of values in you we couldn’t seem to circumvent. Fortunately, we were able to distract you in other ways to keep you from looking too closely at what we were doing.”

“The drugs and alcohol,” Tony realized, recalling how some of the more hard-core drugs had landed in his lap the first time he’d been tipsy at a party, how easy it had been for him to get ahold of suppliers after that, despite his age and how well-known he was. Obadiah nodded, unrepentant in his role in purposely getting Tony addicted to dangerous substances for years of his life.

“With you sufficiently distracted from the day-to-day operations but still giving SI your inventions, we were in a prime position,” Obadiah said smugly.

“Then why pay the Ten Rings to kill me?” Tony demanded, and he heard sharp intakes of breath from behind him, realizing absently that he’d never detailed exactly what had happened with Obadiah – even SHIELD had only known pieces, and had never found out that Tony’s mentor had arranged his kidnapping and subsequent torture in Afghanistan. He’d kept that close to the chest, right by the arc reactor that had been ripped from him.

Obadiah shook his head wryly. “I got greedy, I admit it,” he said, holding out his arms in a gesture of openness. “I wanted the company to be mine in name as well as fact. It was a mistake, and one that I paid dearly for.”

“With your _life_ ,” Tony reiterated bluntly, piercing Obadiah with a stare. “So how are you _here_?”

Obadiah nodded almost contemplatively, as though taking Tony’s question very seriously. “I was getting to that. I’m sure the good Captain told you all about Zola and how he survived physical death by uploading his consciousness into a computer system.”

Tony turned to glance at Steve, whose face was white but who met his eyes briefly and gave a short nod. Obadiah grinned at the look in Tony’s eyes when he turned back to face his old mentor, a horrible guess at the truth already worming its way to the surface. “Yes, Tony, you’re starting to get it now, aren’t you? I’d heard about Zola’s technique. Our business is a dangerous one, so I was always worried about the eventuality that I’d be killed. So I stole Zola’s notes from HYDRA and took them to SI’s scientists. It took years, but they finally made what I asked for – a device that would upload my consciousness to a private SI server if my body died.

“But there was one eventuality I didn’t foresee – the server I was uploaded onto wasn’t being used, which meant I was kept dormant, stored in the server but unable to move anywhere. Until, that is, you acquired all the SHIELD files after they fell and needed another place to store them.”

“That was years ago, though,” Tony interrupted. “Why wait to reveal yourself till now?”

“Patience,” Obadiah chided, and Tony restrained the urge to smack the man, consequences be damned. “Because you had your AIs surveilling the files for information. I couldn’t do much to draw attention to myself. And when your first AI died – “ Tony twitched. “ – I didn’t know what the emptiness meant until your next AI came online. I thought I’d missed my chance entirely, that I’d never get out – and then I felt that emptiness again a few weeks ago, the very feeling that meant my domain wasn’t being surveilled, so I slipped out.”

“Ross,” Tony said dully, remembering how Natasha’d had to bring JARVIS online after FRIDAY had been knocked off, and Obadiah nodded.

“The General. I was jumping through the systems after he took out your AI and landed in his jet, where he had you. I admit I wasn’t able to hold myself back when I caught sight of you for the first time looking so much younger, and his techies noticed me in their systems. I wanted to bring the plane down immediately, get rid of you once and for all, but the General talked to me about the plans he had for you, so I waited. And then he failed to do as he promised, to get rid of you and destroy your legacy, and I was back to square one.

“I didn’t think it would be too hard to get rid of you, if I’m being honest - I live in technology, and you surround yourself with it, so I was surely well placed to take you out quietly, no mess, no fuss. But then I found out about your new _superpowers_. So I gathered those godawful Hammer Tech drones and sent them near enough to you that you’d be called out so I could see what I was up against. After that battle, I used the drones’ assessments to figure out how your power was working and figure out ways around it. The solution, in the end, was simple - you can’t control organic matter, only technology, so I just needed to figure out how to upload myself into an organic body that could control the drones. The only way for you to stop the drones would be to stop me, and your powers wouldn’t be able to do that.”

“So you kidnapped Helen,” Tony continued, and Obadiah grinned his horrible grin.

“And she performed magnificently,” he agreed, turning and showing off his new form. Muscles rippled, dim lights glinting off unnaturally-shiny blue skin. “I have everything that I need to take what I want now.”

Tony paused, eyeing him as Obadiah stood with his maniacal grin, eyes glinting. “And what do you want?” he demanded finally.

Obadiah tilted his disgusting shiny blue head, as though considering him. “What I’ve always wanted – for the company I built with my own two hands alongside your father to _succeed_.” He raised his hands, covered by grey almost-gauntlets, in demonstration, extending them toward Tony, who had to steel himself to prevent himself from stumbling backwards.

“Well, you’ve got that already – SI is a multibillion-dollar international company that’s revolutionized dozens of industries,” Tony spat, glaring at Obadiah, who shook his head slowly, sadly.

“No, no, my boy – you’ve _ruined_ our company. We’re _weapons manufacturers_ , and you’ve made us… _hippies_. Green energy? Prosthetics? Technology? Tony, we’re iron mongers – or we _should_ be,” he said softly, lovingly, almost crooning as he looked entreatingly at Tony, as though he thought a few words could sway Tony’s entire worldview back to what it had been decades ago.

“ _Never_ ,” Tony snarled, tensing, and he felt more-so than saw his team inch closer behind him, as though preparing to back him up despite how confused they must’ve been. “We will _never_ go back to that. I didn’t escape the _shit_ you put me through in Afghanistan, become Iron Man, and transform _my company_ just to go back to war profiteering.”

Obadiah’s expression saddened, and, despite himself, Tony couldn’t help but feel almost _guilty_ with the need to wipe that expression off his former-mentor’s face – but dammit, Obie had been a father figure to him for _years_ , and he’d always had daddy issues after Howard – there was no denying that, and he couldn’t be bothered to try. “Oh, my boy, I was so hoping you wouldn’t say that.” The drones’ eyes seemed to glow brighter beside him, shifting along with Obadiah’s mood. “Plan A was you and I returning our company to its former glory. You won’t like Plan B.”

“Plan B?” James asked, voice hard, and Tony glanced over to see the Winter Soldier written across James’s face.

“Plan B,” Obadiah confirmed, eyes glinting meanly. “Where I kill Tony Stark right here, right now and reveal his deception to the people.” He smiled, a cruel little smirk aimed at Tony. “People don’t like being lied to, Tony,” he said softly. “Your company will suffer and, in the power void, I’ll come forward and take my rightful place at the head of the company.”

“You’re crazy, dude,” Sam called out, voice strong and sure, and, despite the seriousness of the situation, Tony was swept with a wave of affection for these people who would back him up even now. 

“Yeah, man, you really think you can beat _all_ of the Avengers?” Scott scoffed, having left Helen’s side to stand solidly beside Natasha. Obadiah looked a little surprised, eyes widening.

“You would support him, even after he’s lied to you for so long?” he asked, doubtful and incredulous.

“Iron Man is our teammate, no matter what name he goes by,” Steve said firmly, stepping up beside Tony, and Tony had to tell himself firmly that _now was not the goddamn time_ for his eyes to get all misty. They had a fight to win.

“So be it,” Obadiah snarled, and then he launched himself at them, the drones following in his wake.

Tony met his old mentor head on, helmet coming up quickly and shield forming around his arm. Obadiah’s first blow hit the shield, and Tony’s feet scraped across the concrete floor with the force of the blow, though he held firm. A drone came at him from the side, and Tony blasted it with a repulsor quickly – but Obadiah took advantage of his momentary distraction to backhand him, the force sending him skidding halfway across the room. 

“Jay!” he heard Steve and Clint cry out, and, when he pushed himself to a seated position, Steve and James had engaged the blue monstrosity – and James had murder in his eyes, the Winter Soldier clear in his movements. Tony jumped quickly to his feet, rejoining the fray, blasting drones left and right.

To his left, Natasha was using her Widow Bites to their full advantage, sending drones to the ground with a hair-raising sizzle. Clint was alternating between using the EMP arrows Tony had made for him and simply saying ‘fuck it’ and punching the drones in the face – though Tony was fairly certain the latter method was much less effective than the former. Scott had disappeared, but Tony occasionally saw drones getting hoisted into the air as though by an invisible force before being chucked into something hard, or suddenly going down due to what Tony would guess was faulty wiring caused by the drones’ ‘conscience’ wreaking havoc.

Sam seemed to be having the most trouble; the Falcon wings weren’t made for this sort of fight, and his hand-to-hand combat experience, while extensive, wasn’t quite to the level of Nat’s and Clint’s. Tony blasted a few of the drones away from him, shooting over and standing back-to-back with the man to take on the small semi-circle that had surrounded him.

“Thanks, man,” Sam yelled over the din when the flock of drones had sufficiently cleared.

“No problem, Pigeon,” Tony called back, turning his attention back to Obadiah – just in time to see the creepy creature knock Steve on his ass. Tony quickly blasted Obadiah away from James before the man could take advantage.

Obadiah was too strong for any one of them to take down by themselves, and there were too many drones for enough of the Avengers to be able team up on Obadiah without everyone else being overwhelmed. _God_ , if his fucking mentor had just still been in the goddamn computer it would be so much easier to get rid of him than with him inhabiting a _body_ \- wait.

Tony was struck by a thought – a memory, really, of something Obadiah had said. Without pausing his defense against the drones, Tony wracked his mind, trying to think of how Obadiah had phrased it – he’d said that he’d been essentially _uploaded_ into the organic body by Helen, which _could_ mean…

Tony reached out with his mind, quickly and silently instructing JARVIS to keep the suit fighting as much as possible. He could _see_ the drones, but could also see how they were all interconnected, woven together by a bright, shining organic sliver that shielded them from his interference. But when Tony focused on Obadiah, he could _see_ where an array of little organic slivers had coalesced, linking and interlocking as they stretched towards the center of Obadiah’s forehead, where the shining organic tendrils faded rapidly in intensity to the lightly glowing technological threads he was so much more familiar with.

And when Tony followed those threads, he closed in on what he’d been both hoping and dreading he’d find. The swirling mass of grey-black consciousness that roiled in Obadiah’s head was as slimy, oily, and gross as Tony’d have thought it would be, leaving greasy fingerprints on Tony’s mind as it slithered over him, and Tony shuddered inside the suit. But he set aside his squeamishness, steeling himself and pushing into the tangled web of thoughts, diving deep, deep, deeper, pulling at a loose thread here, another there, tugging and winding and pulling, until – until – 

He felt it as Obadiah unraveled: the confusion, the bewilderment, the crushing, overwhelming fear as Tony tugged at the knot that remained of his mentor’s consciousness until it was a pile of limp thread.

He felt as those threads finished their disentanglement and fell still.

And he knew what he would find when he opened his eyes.

The drones had crashed to the floor, unable to stand on their own now that the strings holding them up had been cut. And Obadiah’s monstrous form lay limp and unseeing in the center, an expression of strangely-innocent confusion on his face as he stared into nothingness, an empty husk all that remained of a man Tony had once called his friend – his family.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Clint grumbled, breaking the silence and startling a laugh out of a few of the Avengers. But Tony couldn’t tear his eyes away from Obadiah, heart breaking all over again. How many times would he be betrayed by people he loved? How many times would he have to kill or watch his father figures die in front of his eyes?

“Tony, sweetheart, zvyozdochka,” Natasha murmured, stepping forward and turning Tony to face her, ripping his eyes away from Obadiah so he could meet her worried ones. “You’re okay, little one, he can’t hurt you anymore. He’s gone.”

“That’s what we thought last time,” Tony whispered, the unbalancing fear of facing an old nightmare making him more honest and vulnerable than usual. Nat made a distressed noise, pulling him to her chest and stroking his hair. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around her waist, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I know, zvezda moya. But you finished him yourself this time,” she reassured him softly, then paused. “That’s what happened, isn’t it? He fell and the drones followed, so I assumed you must’ve found a way…”

“Yeah,” he murmured, knowing his voice did nothing to hide the pain the word caused him. “Yeah, I figured out how to…to unravel his mind.”

Natasha said nothing, but her petting quickened, her grip around his back tightening. “You did what you had to. You saved us, and everyone else that he would have killed.”

Tony took a deep shuddering breath before forcing himself to pull back and giving her a tremulous smile when she let him recede a bit under an arms-length away and didn’t quite release him. “Thanks, Tash,” he said softly, and she gave him a quiet smile in return.

“So, uh, not to, like, bring up the elephant in the room, but…uhm, am I the only one wondering about the whole Tony thing?” Scott piped up, and Tony cringed, cursing under his breath. Natasha gave him an amused look, reluctantly releasing him in full and taking a step away so he could turn and face the rest of the team. 

The other Avengers were in various states of disarray. Helen was still slumped against the wall, and Scott was next to her looking mostly unscathed but very confused – which, Tony was starting to think that might just be Scott’s permanent state of being. Sam, on the other hand, was looking much more banged-up, which Tony supposed made sense considering the Falcon wings weren’t exactly made for indoor combat in close quarters. Clint looked pretty chipper, all things considered, eyeing Tony with something closer to curiosity and hope than accusation. And Tony had saved the two most difficult to look at for last, dreading what he would see in their eyes – but was surprised to find that Steve was wearing an expression similar to Clint, hope practically spilling from his pores. James was harder to read, and though that had always been the case with him, it had Tony fidgeting nervously.

“May as well tell them, zvyozdochka,” Natasha murmured amusedly, and Tony gave her a side-eyed glare. 

“Um. Right, well. So the thing is, I, uh – “

“Tell us, kotenok,” James said evenly, eyes piercing him. “Are you Tony Stark?”

Tony swallowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo yeah, tony was right, it was obie! a lot of you guys caught the Ultron parallels - I kind of wanted to make a villain with elements from all of Tony's major foes, so there was, of course, Obie for IM 1, the Hammer drones from IM 2, and Ultron. I couldn't find a way to include IM 3 without it being super contrived, so that one got skipped, but yeah, that was the intent - Tony facing most of his biggest foes with a team that has his back no matter what.
> 
> there was no specific reason Obie ended up being blue besides that I couldn't pick another color - green was too Hulk, red was Vision, purple was Thanos, pink/orange/yellow didn't seem intimidating enough, black/grey/brown/white seemed too literal. So. Blue.
> 
> alright!! on to the last two chapters!! so I've mentioned my planning method is like a bulleted list of things I intend to do in a chap - next chapter's list is suuuuper vague, i.e. the list literally reads 1) the team Knows now; and 2) tony/steve/james ;D; so if there's something you really wanna see in the next chapter, please feel free to leave a comment and let me know! it's a very VERY wide open chapter, so I'd very much like to hear what you guys would like to see!


	12. Rebuke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secret's out, time for a talk.

There was a resounding silence for a long moment after James’s question, and all eyes were on Tony as he tried to decide what to say, his panicked brain mostly sending him the mental equivalent of static noises, which was really no help at all.

“Why don’t we talk about this at the Compound,” Natasha suggested, saving his life as per usual.

“Wait, I think we should – “ Steve started.

“Great idea, Tash,” Tony squeaked, cutting him off. “Fly safe! See you guys there!”

Aaaand with that, he blasted off. 

“Sir, was that really the appropriate way to handle the situation?” JARVIS asked, tone disapproving, and Tony mentally shrugged at him.

“Nope, it absolutely was not,” he agreed. “But it gives me time to think about how to fix this, at least.”

A pause, and then JARVIS spoke, voice somehow both incredulous and understanding at the same time. “Sir, the odds of you being able to convince them that you are _not_ Tony Stark are very slim.”

Tony grimaced. “What was it Han Solo said? Never tell me the odds?”

“Yes, and if you’ll recall, he was nearly swallowed whole for his troubles,” JARVIS responded dryly, and Tony frowned at him.

“I need you for support, not sass,” he complained, hardly paying attention as he hurtled through the air. Thankfully, his suit was way faster than the quinjet, so there was no chance of an awkward run-in.

“At the moment, Sir, I believe you need me for – what are the teens calling it? – a reality check.”

Tony snorted. “Oh god, I’m playing that soundbite back for Peter and Harley, they’re gonna love it.”

Tony was fairly certain if AIs had eyes to roll, JARVIS would be rolling his right now. “As you say, Sir. Regardless, I believe we should return to the topic at hand.”

“I can’t tell them, J,” Tony said, voice low, and JARVIS paused.

“Why not?”

At that, he drew up short. “Why – JARVIS, you know why! We’ve been through this reasoning a thousand times.”

“That was when we were uncertain as to whether or not we could trust the Rogue Avengers. I believe they have shown at this point that we can.”

Tony blinked, thought for a moment, then blinked again, contemplating it longer than he probably should’ve, considering how much forethought had gone into making absolutely sure no one would find out his identity. But was JARVIS wrong? The Avengers had protected him twice now when they had ample reason not to – the first time, they could’ve been framed for his murder, and this time, they found out (or at least suspected) he’d been lying to them for a long time. And even outside of outright saving him, they’d given him no reason to suspect they were anything less than the trustworthy team they claimed to be.

He was still thinking through everything when he arrived back at the Compound, landing and retracting the suit quickly. But instead of rushing away and locking himself in his lab as he was sorely tempted to do, he took a deep breath and headed for the kitchen; if he was going to do this, he needed a drink. 

The rest of the Avengers filed in as he tipped the scotch over ice, seating themselves in the living room next door, periodically eyeing him with an air of expectation that he would join them. Well, he couldn’t exactly disappoint, could he?

So he walked into the room and settled into one of the chairs, keeping his face impassive and taking a sip of his drink to fortify himself against their stares. Finally, he looked up and met their eyes, landing on James last. He sent one last fervent hope to the heavens, and then – “Yes,” he said simply, giving his delayed answer to the earlier question. “Yes, James. I’m Tony Stark.”

It was silent, not one of his teammates reacting vocally to the news, though Tony could see Scott and Sam looking thoughtful, Natasha evaluating everyone’s reactions, and Steve and James forcing blank expressions. Then there was a snort, and Tony’s eyes shot to Clint. Clint met his eyes and laughed again – and again, and again, eyes growing progressively wilder, until the laughter turned into sobs and Clint rose gracelessly off the couch, stumbling over to Tony. Tony rose to meet him, confused and certain he was about to be punched, as Clint neared – and threw himself into Tony’s arms.

Tony stumbled back, the sudden weight unexpected and throwing him off balance before he steadied, arms jerking up reflexively to wrap around Clint’s waist as the older man buried his face into Tony’s shoulder. He could feel the dampness of tears soaking the part of his shirt where Clint’s head rested as the archer’s shoulder’s shook. Completely bewildered, Tony looked at Natasha for help as he awkwardly patted Clint’s back, but she just smirked and shrugged.

The rest of the team was silent, watching the duo when Clint finally pulled back, hands squeezing Tony’s shoulders as the archer looked at him, red-rimmed eyes meeting confused ones. “Clint?” Tony prompted uncertainly, and Clint _beamed_.

“You’re alive,” he whispered, tone reverent. “You’re _alive_. I – I thought…” His eyes filled with tears, face breaking, and Tony instinctively reached up with one hand, thumbing one of the wrists that was still grasping his shoulder soothingly. Clint calmed, blinking until watery eyes were able to meet Tony’s again, and Tony was knocked breathless by the sincere _relief_ he saw in their depths. “God, Tony, I thought we’d _lost_ you from our own stupidity and stubbornness. But you’re _alive_.” And his voice broke again, before he pulled Tony into another tight hug, mumbling against his shoulder, “I _missed_ you, asshole.”

“Oh, uh, I mean, I’ve been here,” Tony deflected awkwardly, wincing as he inadvertently brought up the elephant in the room.

But Clint only laughed, pulling back from the hug, still-wet eyes crinkling in delight. “Yeah, I guess you have.”

“And not that we’re not all delighted about it, because we so are, but, like – why didn’t you tell us?” Scott asked, voice going high at the end like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to ask the question. Tony flinched, and Clint gave him a perceptive look before returning to his seat, the picture of calm, all signs of semi-hysterical laughter gone as Tony mimicked him and sat down as well.

“Tell us,” Clint said simply.

And so Tony did. He told them about Siberia from his perspective, dutifully ignoring James’s and Steve’s reactions, especially as he described a little bit of the extent of the damage, though he left out as much as he could while still explaining why he’d needed Extremis and the serum. He told them about what his family had done to save him, how they’d combed through his research, sought out Dr. Cho, put together a formula for him. He told them about how it had worked a little _too_ well, making him appear younger and giving him abilities on top of healing him. He told them about how he, Pepper, Rhodey, and Vision had decided it would be best to preserve the legend of Iron Man in order to protect the Accords and enhanced people from Ross, and how that had led to the creation of his alter ego. He told them about how he hadn’t been sure who to trust with the knowledge of his true identity, certain that _everyone_ finding out would mean the end of the Accords as they knew it and the beginning of something _much_ worse headed by Ross. He told them about the nightmares of all of _them_ , his family who had left him, in chains in a place worse than the Raft with Ross cackling down at them and him powerless to do anything.

He told them how hopeful he’d been when he’d heard about Maximoff – and how lonely when he realized he couldn’t tell them the truth. Because he couldn’t trust them yet. He didn’t know them anymore, and he couldn’t be sure just how much of what they’d done was Maximoff and how much was _them_.

(He hated how it sounded like he was pleading for them to understand. It didn’t matter whether they understood, he knew. He’d done what he felt like he had to for the good of everyone else, and now he had to deal with the consequences.)

He told them everything, and then he stopped, falling silent, looking down at his hands, wrung out yet terrified of what they might say now that everything was in the open.

“Tony.” Steve’s voice caressed his name, and Tony’s head popped up, eyes flicking to him immediately. The super soldier was looking at him with an emotion Tony didn’t know how to name, and Tony looked back helplessly, heart in his throat. Blue eyes bored into his, and Steve’s face crumpled. “Tony, I’m so, so sorry.”

Tony’s eyes widened, and his mouth popped open, the unexpectedness of the apology drawing him up short. “Steve – what? What are _you_ sorry for?”

Steve looked at him with an intensity that bordered on manic, self-loathing etched into every line of his body. “What am I _not_ sorry for?” he asked rhetorically, tone aimed viciously at himself. “I almost _killed_ you, Tony!”

“Maximoff – “ Tony started to protest, but Steve cut him off.

“Fine, fine. That was Maximoff’s fault, whatever,” Steve said dismissively, still looking wretched and self-flagellating. “Even disregarding what _she_ did, I still lied to you for years. I used your resources so I could find my friend, knowing what had happened to your parents, and I didn’t tell you about it so I could keep my search going. And I _never_ showed you the appreciation you deserved for housing us, paying for everything, handling PR, building for us – you basically _were_ the Avengers, and I never once thanked you for that. I took you for granted and used your resources for my own selfish purposes, and then I let Maximoff on the team, which almost resulted in you dying.

“And I _know_ you’re going to try to find a way to absolve me of any guilt for all of that or blame yourself for everything because that’s what you _do_ , but – but I don’t _want_ you to do that, Tony,” Steve said firmly, eyes blazing. “Please – I want you to let me apologize to you, properly, without telling me none of this was my fault, because it _was_.”

Speechless, mouth still unattractively agape, all Tony could do was stare, and Steve nodded to himself once, satisfied, before standing and walking over to Tony, pulling him to his feet. Tony looked up into wide, sincere eyes, pain written across Steve’s expression.

“Tony, I am so sorry for everything I did to you. I wish to God I could take it back, and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying like hell to make it up to you,” Steve said lowly, voice brimming with such emotion, such fervent determination, that it weakened Tony’s knees.

“Language,” he said automatically, voice feeble, and Steve smiled at him, eyes tender but something burning in his expression. And Tony knew without a shadow of a doubt that Steve was about to yell at him. Or maybe smack him. Or just walk away. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, and then his face was getting closer, and Tony’s eyes widened before he stilled, shocked as Steve’s lips pressed against his. But his shock only lasted for a second before Steve deepened the kiss, and Tony’s eyes drifted closed as his head drifted away, heat flaring in his belly as Steve’s tongue traced his lips, teasing at asking for entrance before he pulled back.

Tony blinked once, twice, trying to pull his head together, his thoughts a jumbled mess. “James!” he squeaked, and Steve raised an eyebrow.

“Not exactly the first word I was hoping would come out of your mouth right now,” he said drily, then pointed to himself. “Steve.”

Tony’s lips twitched, amused despite himself, then the distress returned. “No, I meant – you’re with James!”

“True,” Steve acknowledged, and Tony’s heart plummeted, even as his confusion ratcheted up.

“Then why would you kiss _me_?” he demanded, starting to feel a little hurt, cheeks reddening.

“Well, doll, we were kinda hoping we could _both_ be with you,” James drawled, and Tony blinked as Steve stepped back so Tony could see James step up beside him, lascivious smirk on his face. Absently, Tony noted that the rest of the team had left (or, more likely, fled) the room, leaving just himself and the super soldiers behind. The duo smiled down at him, and Tony was _really_ feeling his lack of height now.

“What – I don’t understand,” he said finally, eyes wide as he looked back and forth between the Brooklynn boys. 

“We’ve been planning to ask you to be our fella for a while now,” Steve said with a bright smile, and James raised a lazy eyebrow.

“We had an actual _plan_ for how we’d do it and everything, before this one up and ruined it,” he said, giving Steve an unimpressed look. But Steve only shrugged unabashedly, grin not fading in the slightest.

“I was apologizing, I had to show him I was _sincere_ ,” Steve countered, and Tony was about 90% certain he was getting whiplash – both physically from looking back and forth between the two and emotionally from the fraught conversation leading into… _this_ , whatever this was.

The super soldiers were ignoring his inner turmoil, James rolling his eyes at Steve. “More like trying to kiss him into submission.”

“Jerk.”

“Punk.”

“Hey, yeah, so this is cute and all, but I’m really confused right now,” Tony interrupted, and the duo turned to look at him in amusement. He folded his arms defensively, glaring at them, and James chuckled.

“We’re asking you to go steady with us, doll,” he said, amusement coloring his voice. “I feel like we’re being pretty clear this time, so I’m not sure what’s confusing you.”

Tony gave him a look, unable to believe his ears and refusing to get his hopes up. “The part where you two want to date me,” he said stubbornly, face set and eyes hard, the slightest hint of frustration leaking into his voice at having to say this. But it was better to get his heart ripped out now than let them in only for them to realize what a shitty boyfriend he’d be and rip it out later, after he’d had a chance to get even _more_ attached. “I’m Tony Stark – not Jay. You get that, right? I’ve – I’ve been lying to you for months!”

Maybe some of his inner turmoil was showing on his outer side, because James and Steve immediately stopped looking so smug and satisfied, expressions of concern sweeping over their faces.

“Yeah, sweetheart, we get that,” Steve said softly, stepping closer and brushing Tony’s arm gently, offering comfort and holding Tony’s gaze. “And honestly – honestly, we’re pretty relieved. We felt a little weird, liking someone so young. James and I both have decades more experience than a 21-year-old, felt wrong to like ya so much.” Tony supposed it made sense that James and Steve would’ve been confused about having feelings for ‘Jay’ – though they both looked like they were in their mid-to-upper 20s thanks to the serum, Steve was at least mid-thirties, and James was technically around a century old, since he’d been awake for all those years under HYDRA. Steve continued, voice earnest, “But it makes more sense now that we know you’re not actually 21, especially because I’d been wanting to ask you out for a while when you were _you_ , back before Wanda got in my head.” 

And now Tony’s eyebrows shot _way_ up. “What – really?”

Steve just smiled at him, amused. “Yes, really, Tony. You can’t really tell me you never noticed?”

“Hate to break it to you, Stevie, but he’s pretty oblivious,” James stage-whispered, and Tony stuck his tongue out at him.

“True,” Steve agreed, and Tony mock-gasped.

“Ganging up on me already? Two super soldiers against one measly person is hardly a fair fight,” he teased, and the duo went still. Tony blinked, confused and frowning, thinking back through his sentence to try to figure out how he’d offended him, and – oh. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t _trying_ to bring that up,” he said quietly. “Wasn’t even thinking about it, honestly.”

James smiled sadly at him. “We know, Tony. You’d never say anything on purpose, you’re too nice for that.”

Tony shook his head immediately. “No, that’s _definitely_ not true,” he protested, seeing a problem and wanting to nip it in the bud, squashing the trepidation that he’d be sentencing this pre-relationship to doom as he did so. “If we’re gonna do this, you need to know that about me upfront – I’m _not_ nice, not even a little. I’m cranky and selfish and an ass before I have coffee, and I’m usually an ass even after I’ve had coffee. I’ll never remember birthdays or anniversaries or – “

“I’m gonna stop you right there, honey,” James cut in, voice stern enough that Tony cut off, eyes widening at the stormy expression on James’s face that was echoed on Steve’s. “Have you been putting on a show as Jay? Behaving any differently than you normally would, other than calling yourself by a different name?”

Tony frowned, brow furrowing. “Uh, I don’t think so?”

“Then what you just said isn’t true,” James said firmly, holding a hand up to stave off Tony’s protests before they could begin. “You may be grumpy before your coffee sometimes, or cranky and selfish sometimes, but you know what I see _most_ of the time? I see someone who’s trying his best to make the world a better place – and at the expense of himself, more often than not. I see someone who let people who’d hurt him back into his life without question and provided food, gear, and a home for them without even thinking about it. I see someone who’s been through more than any one person should ever have to go through in a dozen lifetimes who hasn’t lost his hope for the future. I see someone selfless, smart, forgiving, and brave – and I also see someone who don’t see himself very clearly.”

Tony’s eyes widened throughout James’s speech until they were wide as saucers, awed and amazed. “I – I definitely don’t deserve that kind of an assessment, but thank you, James,” he said quietly finally, and James gave him a semi-frustrated, semi-amused look.

“Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea how special you are,” he said exasperatedly, and Steve laughed, nodding in agreement, then sobered.

“But we should get back to the subject – we’ve told you what we want, but what do _you_ want?” he asked, blue eyes piercing brown, and Tony swallowed.

“I – I don’t know, I – I honestly didn’t think you’d all be sticking around after you found out,” he blurted, his residual shock loosening his tongue, and Steve looked sad.

“Oh, Tony, how could you think we’d leave you after we’ve just gotten you back?” he asked softly, and Tony flushed, ducking his head to avoid seeing the emotions in the blonde’s eyes.

“It’s okay if you don’t know what you want right now, though, Tony,” James chimed in, giving him a gentle look. “It’s been a hell of a day, and you have a lot of processing to do. Just let us know when you figure out what you want, yeah?”

Tony found himself nodding his agreement before he’d really given it thought, and then the super soldiers were kissing him on the cheek and wishing him goodnight.

“J? FRI? Did I just hallucinate that?” he asked, bewildered.

“It would appear not, Sir, as I have recorded the event on my server,” JARVIS responded primly.

“And I sent it to Harley and Peter, who can also confirm that it wasn’t a hallucination,” FRIDAY chimed in cheerfully, and Tony let out an indignant squawk as his phone rang.

 

“For the _last time_ , Harley, no you can _not_ give Captain America and the Winter Soldier the shovel talk. Do you _want_ to end up being a smear on the sidewalk?”

“Fine, but we’re still coming to visit. I’ve been told I’m good at very intimidating staredowns.”

“And I’ve been meaning to practice using the enhanced interrogation mode on the suit!”

“ _Peter, no_.”

“Peter, yes!”

 

“Wait, so the _actual children_ were in on it?” Clint asked indignantly when Harley and Peter burst into the communal floor of the Compound, shouting that they were headed downstairs to see Tony.

“Mr. Keener and Mr. Parker have shown that they can be trusted,” FRIDAY responded pointedly, and the team winced.

“Jesus, are Stark’s AIs _ever_ going to like us?” Sam muttered.

“I would not hold my breath, Mr. Wilson,” JARVIS said. Natasha huffed out a laugh, pushing herself to her feet.

“JARVIS, please inform the mad scientists that dinner will be served at 7 and we expect them to be there,” she said before kicking Clint in the shin.

“Ow!”

“Get up, you lug, we’re going to talk to her wife and beg her to help us make an actual meal so we can sit down like an actual family and have actual dinner together.”

“You’re so bossy.”

“So’s Laura. So are your kids. Pretty sure you’re just a pushover, Barton.”

 

“I cannot _believe_ you two came over,” Tony groaned, spinning in his swivel chair to face the two overly-energetic menaces vibrating around his workshop.

“Of course we came over, Tony. You can’t be trusted to take charge and go after something you actually want for once in your life, so we’re here to make sure that happens,” Harley said reasonably, even though Tony considered his words to be entirely unreasonable.

“That’s not true, I go after things I want!” Tony protested. “I’m Iron Man! And the owner of a multi-billion-dollar international company!”

“Yeah, but are those things that you wanted, or things that you feel like you have to do?” Peter asked sagely, and Tony narrowed his eyes at him.

“I _like_ being Iron Man and doing tech shit for SI.”

“I never said you didn’t!” Peter said, hands in the air in a gesture of innocence. “Just that you originally started doing them because you felt like you had to.”

And that drew Tony up short, because he couldn’t exactly refute that. SI, he was expected to inherit and run; it was his father’s legacy, and he knew his duty. And he’d done it, despite how much he’d hated making weapons – or no, he supposed that was giving himself too much credit. He hadn’t really hated making weapons, he’d just never really been _inspired_ by it. He liked fixing things and making things better, and weapons were things – but they were things that overall broke stuff and made things worse, so it had canceled everything out in the end, as far as his motivation was involved. But he’d done it like he’d felt like he was supposed to until he’d figured out he could make a change. And Iron Man had certainly been born of necessity, of feeling that he had to do _something_ to protect the people he loved. And he’d loved it since then, but that hadn’t been why he’d originally donned the suit.

Maybe the kids had a point.

“Okay, but just because I haven’t done that in a while doesn’t mean that this is a good idea,” Tony protested finally, only to be greeted with a very large, disrespectful eye roll from both of his children.

“Why is it a bad idea, Mr. Stark?” Peter asked exasperatedly. Tony frowned at him, crossing his arms petulantly.

“How about because we’re teammates who are supposed to be saving the world on a regular basis and shouldn’t distract ourselves with personal drama or do things that could tear the team apart? How about because they only just found out _who I actually am_ earlier today? How about because they probably don’t even really like me, they probably just have a misplaced sense of guilt about everything? How about because they already have each other – so why would they need _me_? I’m a fucking disaster who ruins relationships without even trying! It’s like a really shitty talent – it’s my actual superpower!” he exclaimed, gesturing wildly, gaining steam as he went, and Peter and Harley stared at him.

“Tony, come on, do you really think that?” Harley asked softly, and Tony just pursed his lips, shutting down the Share Train for the day, but Harley could definitely see the answer on his face, because he groaned exaggeratedly. “Oh my god, Mechanic, why are you so _stupid_? First of all, you’re allowed to have your own fucking life even as a superhero, and that includes being allowed to date people on the team. Second, they literally _told you_ they liked you both as you and as Jay, so I’m not seeing the problem there. Third – you know what, I can’t even address your third thing, it’s so dumb. You really think they don’t actually like you? Have you _seen_ the way they look at you? Jesus, Tony, for a genius, you really are an idiot. And fourth – honestly, I feel the same way about responding to that as I did to your third thing. You’re not a disaster in relationships, you just haven’t been dating the right people. So you know the solution to that? _Date the right fucking people_. Specifically, the people who just told you in no uncertain terms that they want to fucking date you!”

Harley was breathing hard by the end of his little speech, and Tony could only stare at him, eyes wide at the vehemence in the kid’s voice. 

“I second Harley,” Peter piped up quietly but sincerely, and he smiled broadly when Tony turned to look at him. 

“Menaces,” Tony said numbly, no heat behind the words. “Both of you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harley grumbled, waving a hand. “Now. Let’s get back to the real reason we came down here: plotting world domination without Pepper looming over our shoulders.”

 

The kitchen smelled heavenly when Tony, Peter, and Harley finally found their way back upstairs, summoned by FRIDAY insistently pinging Tony via Extremis. 

“Oh my god, is that pot roast? Please tell me Laura made this,” Tony called out, mouth watering as they rounded the corner – before his brain caught up with his mouth and he remembered that _oh shit he hadn’t said anything to Laura and the Barton kids about who he was_.

“Tony,” Laura called warmly, effectively forestalling his mental panic. She was wielding a dirtied wooden spoon, Clint licking something off his fingers at her back and Natasha glaring at the archer with a suspicious look. “Glad you could make it. I think everyone is already at the big table at the dining room. You and the boys can grab a plate and help yourselves,” she invited.

Tony blinked, gathering his bearings, then beamed happily at her. “Thanks, Laura.”

“Any time, Tony.” And Tony dutifully ignored the way her voice eagerly wrapped around his name, like she was awed that she got to say it, even more steadfastly ignoring the guilty pang it sent through him to know he’d hurt her when she’d only shown him kindness. He and the boys piled up their plates high, Clint ribbing him about having amassed an army of children and arguing with Harley as he and Natasha led the younger boys out to the dining room, and he was about to head there himself when Laura touched his arm briefly, pausing him. She bent down and pressed a light kiss to his forehead. “My offer to be part of our family still stands, Tony,” she said quietly, eyes searing into him with a maternal warmth. Speechless, Tony could only stare at her until she gave him a small smile, pushing him gently on the back to shepherd him into the dining room.

The rest of his family was there, seated around the table, and he had to stand in the doorway for a moment, taking it all in. Harley and Peter were sitting next to each other with Scott and his family on their other side, chattering with Scott about some of the other engineer’s ideas while Cassie drew a cartoonish schematic of the design. Clint and Natasha were next to Clint’s kids, and Laura slid in next to them, the kids each clamoring for Aunt Nat’s attention while Clint rolled his eyes and muttered good-naturedly about how he wasn’t even the favorite Spy Twin in his own family. Sam was deep in conversation with Maggie’s husband, and Maggie looked exasperated by the discussion, so Tony wasn’t sure if he even wanted to know what that was about – plausible deniability and all that. And Steve and Bucky were mostly watching and listening, an empty seat between them and the two younger boys, occasionally chiming into the engineering debate the boys and Scott were having. 

It was perfect in a way he didn’t feel like he could ever have expected, his family (sans Pepper and Rhodey, of course, but Lord knew those two had too much on their plates at the moment) all gathered here together, happy and healthy and whole, knowing and accepting his secret and welcoming him with open arms. It was more than he’d expected he’d ever have not even a few months prior, and it was enough to knock the wind out of him.

“Tony?” Steve’s concerned voice cut through the haze and drew him back to the present. “You coming?” And Tony nodded, smiling and sliding into the space between him and Peter. 

Dinner passed in that manner, amiable conversation buzzing around the table, dinnerware clinking against plates as Laura’s roast disappeared, the sunlight that slanted through the windows progressively shading from muted yellow to orange to red as the sun set until the twinkling overhead lights were all that was left to light everyone’s faces. Tony was pleasantly aware of Steve’s warmth on one side and Peter and Harley’s laughter on the other, cozy and comforted in a way that was rare for him.

“To bed, kiddos,” Laura finally instructed firmly, standing and shooing her children out of the room. 

“You too, Cass,” Maggie said firmly, tugging her husband along as Cassie whined, Scott tagging along after her like a puppy. 

“You hear that, children? Bed,” Tony mocked, turning to Peter and Harley, and they rolled their eyes.

“You’re, like, four years older than us,” Harley pointed out.

“Only _technically_ ,” Tony objected, wagging a finger. “Emotionally, I’m – “

“Four years old?”

“An infant?”

“Stunted?”

Tony turned slowly to glare at the Avengers, who were smiling oh-so-sweetly back at him. “I pay for your food and housing,” he reminded them threateningly.

“Technically, the Council does,” Clint piped up with a grin.

“Technically, you should all be in a Motel 6, in that case,” Tony deadpanned.

“Besides, I still can’t believe you told the babies before you told all of us,” Clint continued, ignoring him.

“Hey!”

“We are _not_ babies!”

“Fine, toddlers, whatever,” Clint said dismissively, waving away their protesting squawks. “But c’mon, man! You thought they could keep a secret better than _us_? I mean, okay, Scott, I get. Sam, too, since you didn’t know him that well. And Steve and Barnes since there was the whole ‘trying to kill you’ thing. But me and Nat? The super spies with our super secrets? I’m insulted, really."

"Well, to be fair, Nat _is_ the first one of you guys I told,” Tony said with a shrug, only realizing his mistake when four identical mock-offended looks skewered him.

“Seriously, Tony?” Natasha groaned, burying her face in her hands. “How you managed to keep your whole secret identity thing going even _this_ long is a mystery.”

“Hey, she guessed!” Tony protested, holding his hands up in surrender in the face of the accusatory looks. “I wouldn’t have said anything at all, but she figured it out!”

The accusing looks slid to Natasha instead, and Tony let out a sigh of relief. “And you didn’t _tell us_?” Clint asked, looking teasingly betrayed. Natasha smirked and shrugged.

“If you were a better spy, you’d have figured it out yourself.”

“Rude! I’m telling Laura on you!”

“Oh, grow up, Clint, I’m not scared of your wife. She likes me.”

“Wait, how did you figure it out, Natalia?” James asked curiously, eyeing her speculatively, and Natasha shrugged.

“Just a few things he said in conversation that would’ve required _extremely_ detailed knowledge of certain conversations with Tony – which would’ve been weird for Tony’s son that he only knew for one year to have any sort of knowledge of, let alone reference in casual conversation,” she responded.

“Hmph, that’s cheating,” James grumbled, looking simultaneously mollified and put out. “You had inside knowledge that not all of us had.” Natasha just gave him an amused look. 

“Maybe,” she allowed, eyes twinkling. “Or maybe I’m just that good.”

“I’m surrounded by scary people,” Tony stage-whispered to Peter and Harley, who only looked amused.

“You’re the scary one!” Sam declared emphatically, pointing a finger at him. “I can’t believe you managed to make yourself a kid again – and with super powers to boot – and then _also_ make an entirely new identity for yourself, _and_ make that identity _super rich, smart, and famous_ , and no one ever realized it was _you_. You’re either the greatest actor ever, or we’re all oblivious idiots.”

“It’s definitely the second one,” Harley said firmly, giving Tony a look when he let out a loud gasp.

“I’m hurt, munchkin!” Tony told him. “I’m an _excellent_ actor.”

“You were so clearly _you_ that it took me all of one phone call to figure it out,” he said flatly, and Tony stuck his tongue out while James snorted.

“You really were really obvious, Mr. Stark,” Peter said apologetically, and Tony frowned at him.

“Hey, I had to _tell_ you who I was, and you made me pull up documentation to prove it,” Tony said accusingly.

“Yeah, because I was _emotionally distraught_! Plus your story sounded _crazy_ , how was I supposed to know you were telling the truth?” Peter squawked indignantly.

“Dude, we _live_ the crazy, you could tell me pretty much anything and I’d believe it at this point,” Harley countered, and Peter conceded with a head tilt.

“I apologize for the interruption, but Mr. Parker’s aunt is here to retrieve Mr. Parker and Mr. Keener,” JARVIS announced, and Peter and Harley let out identical groans of disappointment.

“Alright, kids, let’s get you down to May before she does something horrific to me for having you out too late on a school night like lecturing me or something,” Tony said, starting to push himself out of his chair, but Sam held out a halting hand, standing up.

“Nah, man, I’ll take the kids downstairs, I gotta head out anyway. I’m headed to a VA meeting to start re-training so I can help vets again,” Sam said, and Tony lowered himself back to his seat while Steve made a happy noise.

“That’s great, Sam! I’m glad you’re starting back at that,” he said warmly, and Sam smiled.

“Thanks, man.”

“Remember what we talked about, Tony,” Harley called as Sam pushed him and Peter towards the elevator. Tony rolled his eyes but, at twin stern looks, he nodded reluctantly. And with that, the three of them left, leaving Clint, Natasha, Steve, and James as his only company.

Glancing around at their group, he felt a pang – for what they’d lost, for who they were missing, and for time they couldn’t get back; but at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel grateful as he looked around at his teammates – teammates who had shown they’d stick with him through thick and thin, through the crazy and the ordinary (or, as ordinary as it got with the Avengers, at least). The whole group that had been here tonight was his family, but Clint, Natasha, and Steve had been three of the founding members of their odd little group, and James had wormed his way into a special part of the heart Tony would swear he didn’t have.

“We’re really okay?” he asked suddenly, and four pairs of eyes blinked at him. “After everything – everything you know now,” he clarified, feeling strangely vulnerable and open with all of them looking at him. But he pressed on doggedly anyway “We’re still okay?”

“Of course we’re okay, Tony,” Steve said softly, smile gentle, and James, Natasha, and Clint echoed his sentiment with firm nods. “As if we could be anything but so, so happy and relieved you’re alive.”

“And you get why I did it?” he pressed, strangely uncertain. “Why I felt like it was necessary to lie to the public? Why I _still_ want to keep up the lie?”

“Yeah, it makes sense when you explain it the way you do,” Clint said with a wry smile. “You’ve always been way better at the whole public management thing than the rest of us, so, if you think it’s for the best for the Avengers that you pretend to be your own son, I trust you.”

And that simple sentiment made Tony’s chest ache, a pleasant sort of pain twinging through him.

“Thanks,” he choked out, and his team smiled at him. And suddenly, it was too much – too much warmth, love, acceptance, too much happiness, too much _family_ for one day. “I have to – “ He pointed his thumb in the general direction of the elevator, all but fleeing to his workshop.

 

It had been a couple of days since the big revelation and since he and James had finally gotten to tell the engineer how they felt, and Steve was starting to get a little antsy – not because Tony hadn’t given them an answer, because he’d wait as long as Tony needed for that, but because he hadn’t seen the man since he’d fled to the workshop after their team dinner.

JARVIS and FRIDAY had reassured him that Tony was doing well, just wanted a little bit of space to collect his thoughts after everything, and Steve could respect that. The man had just put a mentor and father figure _back_ in the ground after having had to do so already once before, not to mention the whole secret identity coming to the forefront thing; it had to be a lot to process.

But after two days, Steve was ready to barge into the workshop to see for himself that Tony was alive and well and taking care of himself, consequences be damned.

So instead, he went downstairs to the gym to take out his frustrations on a punching bag. When he returned two hours later, sweaty and breathing hard, stripping and showering quickly and angrily, James eyed him.

“C’mon,” his partner said finally, throwing a clean t-shirt and jeans at Steve that Steve caught by reflex, pulling them on obediently and following James down the hall.

“Where?” he asked confusedly when they got to the elevator, and James gave him a look before pressing the button to go to Tony’s workshop. “James, no, we can’t bug him!” Steve protested immediately, and James raised his eyebrows.

“Punk, he’s running himself into the ground trying to avoid thinking about his feelings, and it’s clearly not working for him or he’d have come back upstairs by now. And you’re too on edge to focus on anything else and it’s driving me crazy,” James said matter-of-factly as the elevator came to a halt, and any protest Steve might have made was cut off as the doors slid open.

The workshop was the amazing wonder that it always was, in a constant state of movement, and there, at the center of it all like a maestro conducting the world’s most harmonious symphony, was Tony.

It may not have been the goateed face Steve was most familiar with, but it was so easy to see Tony in this moment, old band tee and ripped jeans on display, grease stains rubbed absentmindedly on various parts of his exposed skin, screwdriver clenched between his teeth as he glared contemplatively at something that was probably refusing to cooperate. He was younger, sure, with his smooth face and curly hair, the youthful set to his eyes, and the lack of laugh lines that were left behind after one of his beautiful smiles – but this was his Tony, his _favorite_ Tony, in his element in his workshop, making the world a better place.

“Hey, Tones, how’s it going?” James called easily, stepping forward, and Steve followed as if on a string. With a muffled shout that resulted in the screwdriver dropping out of his mouth and clanging to the floor, Tony jumped and looked at them in alarm before his shoulders relaxed and his stance shifted into a more natural pose.

“Hey guys, you scared me,” he said with a small smile, and Steve thought he could probably hang the moon on that smile. It should be illegal, really, to have a smile that pretty. Tony straightened, put aside his work and leaned against the workstation facing them with an open smile. “What brings you to see the wizard?” 

“Just checking on you,” James responded, walking towards the engineer, Steve following. “We haven’t seen you in a couple of days. Wanted to make sure you’re alive and doing alright.”

Tony’s smile went softer, almost shy, and Steve wanted to coo at him. “I’m fine, thanks for checking on me. You didn’t have to do that,” he said with the slightest hint of bashfulness, looking at the two super soldiers from under long lashes, and Steve felt like his heart was in his throat. But no, they promised they wouldn’t push him; he’d tell them what he wanted from them when he was ready, and they should never pressure him.

So of course James had to say, “Also, Steve was getting antsy about not hearing your response yet, and I was getting tired of going to the gym only to find out he’s punched out all the best punching bags.”

“James!” Steve said, aghast, glaring at his partner in part so he wouldn’t have to look at Tony. But James only shrugged.

“What? It’s true, and I don’t think it’s doing any of us any good for Tony to hide away down here. So what’s the word, dollface? Any updates on how you’re feeling?” James pressed, all amused bravado, and Tony blinked at them, apparently startled.

“Oh, uh,” he said eloquently, and Steve was surprised to see him at an actual loss for words – it happened so rarely with Tony that it was startling to practically be able to see the question marks above his head as he decided how to respond.

“Sir, might I remind you of your recent talk with Mr. Parker and Mr. Keener?” JARVIS asked from the ceiling, tone pointed, and Steve wondered wildly whether that reminder was a good thing or a bad one. But the tension bled out of Tony’s shoulders, and he looked entirely relaxed as he turned to them with open eyes.

“Right, uh, well. I mean, I’m really bad at relationships, and, uh, I’ve never really tried dating two people at the same time, so I’ll probably be even worse at that,” he started, expression increasingly nervous, and James made an impatient noise but let him talk. “But yeah, if you guys know all that and still wanna be with me, then, uh, sure? I mean, yeah. Yeah, I’d like to date you two.”

Steve’s heart soared, and he knew he was grinning like an idiot, thrilled beyond words. James, however, seemed to have expected this response, because he smirked, stepping forward. “Good,” he said, satisfied tone to his voice, and then he was bending down and kissing Tony, who let out aa startled noise but didn’t push him away. And Steve watched with interest as James licked into his mouth, deepening the kiss, and Tony tilted his head back, allowing better access. 

James pulled back, eyes dark as he looked down at Tony. “I’m glad to hear that, kotenok,” he said, voice deep and rough and clearly affected, which had the bonus of also affecting Steve. 

Tony blinked up at him, eyes huge and round, surprised in a way that Steve wouldn’t understand except that he knew from how often Tony had checked in post-reveal that Tony had expected everyone to leave him after they found out. A surge of protectiveness – protective of _Tony_ from _himself_ – rushed through him, and he thought wryly to himself that this would probably be his life now: wanting to protect two stubborn idiots who absolutely refused his protection from anything that could hurt them, especially themselves. 

He was overwhelmingly okay with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more chapter to go!
> 
> question for you guys - I've had a request to continue the series into Infinity War. would you guys be interested in that, or is this wrap-up leaving y'all pretty satisfied?


	13. Epilogue - Renew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snapshots of the year after the fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I really can't believe this is the last chapter. Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck with me this long and for all the encouraging, sweet comments you've left me on this fic. You've all honestly made my day and given me the motivation to keep writing this story <3 A special thanks to Ink-Raven, who gave me their idea and let me run with it.
> 
> A couple of notes - yes, this chapter is shorter and is more time-jumpy. I wanted it to be a nice wrap-up and provide some insight into what their lives are like long-term and some closure for anyone who wants the story to end here, so this fic can be read as a stand-alone. That said, I think I'm going to try to continue this into the IW/Endgame story arcs, and I will definitely be writing some outtakes that people have requested in the comments. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Thanks again for being such lovely, wonderful, amazing readers, you guys really inspire me <3

_Two Weeks Later_

“You did _what_?”

Rhodey’s shriek practically echoed across continents, Tony was pretty sure – and it had nothing on Pepper’s, but Pepper was way scarier when she wasn’t shrieking at all. Pepper at her most terrifying was quiet and deadly.

But Rhodey was loud. Tony winced at the volume, offering his platypus a pleading look.

“It’s not my _fault_ , they just kinda found out because…well, because bad guys, Rhodey!” he whined plaintively. Rhodey glared at him through the display, and Tony was a little glad that his best friend had been involved in some military mission and was therefore unable to make Tony face his ire in person. For now.

“And that’s _another_ thing we need to talk about. Stane? _Again_? What the _fuck_ , Tony?”

Tony sighed heavily, running a hand over his face, feeling for lines that weren’t there anymore. “Yeah, my sentiments exactly, sugarplum.”

It was quiet for a moment while Rhodey studied him, and Tony fidgeted uncomfortably; Rhodey always saw a little more than Tony wanted when he looked at Tony like that. “How are you?” he asked finally, the words superficial but his eyes penetrating.

Tony thought for a moment before answering, a small smile stealing across his face as he contemplated the last two weeks. It had started out rough, that was for sure, but honestly? He hadn’t even _thought_ about Stane all that much since the two super soldiers had effectively thoroughly distracted him. “I’m good, honey bear. Really good,” he responded, and Rhodey still looked suspicious, but his shoulders relaxed somewhat. Tony continued, “It’s been two of the best weeks of my life, actually. Steve and James, they’re…they’re…” Tony trailed off, unable to find the words to describe his lovers, so he just shrugged and smiled helplessly. Rhodey seemed to melt at the sight, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

“I’m happy for you, man. You deserve it,” he said warmly, and Tony ducked his head, still smiling. 

“So when are you coming back?” he asked, changing the subject before he did something horrible like _blushing_ or something.

“I’ll be in tomorrow,” Rhodey responded, and Tony nodded.

“Your room’s ready for you at the Compound, as always. I think Pepper’s coming in tomorrow, too. You can help me break it to her,” he said with a cheeky grin, and Rhodey gave him a disbelieving look.

“You haven’t told _Pepper_ yet?” he asked incredulously, and Tony winced sheepishly.

“She’s been handling some shit in South Korea, I didn’t want to bother her,” he said defensively, and Rhodey eyed him, doubt written all over his expression.

“Mhmm. Might wanna work on that excuse, buddy. Pretty sure Pep’s gonna see right through that horseshit.”

“Rude, sourpatch! You’re supposed to be on _my_ side!”

“I will never pick the side going up against Pepper Potts. Unlike you, I have some sense of self-preservation,” Rhodey said haughtily, and Tony stuck his tongue out.

“Coward,” he muttered.

“Smart guy who wants to keep living with all his organs in place,” Rhodey corrected with a grin.

Tony huffed. “Fine. Whatever. See if I ever back you up again on anything ever.”

“Love you too, man.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Tony was still grinning when he waved a hand and the call ended.

 

 

_Three Months Later_

“I swear to god, Tony, if you do not calm down right now, I’m going call emergency board meetings _every single time_ you have date night for the next year,” Pepper said exasperatedly, smoothing down Tony’s hair for the umpteenth time from where she stood behind him.

“I just want everything to be perfect, Pep,” Tony said earnestly, practically vibrating in his seat. He’d been nervous all day, waiting for the Brooklynn boys to get home so he could ask the Question.

Pepper didn’t get why this was such a big deal, but that was okay. To her mind, they all three already lived in the same building, so Tony asking the super soldiers to move in with him wasn’t any major change – but to Tony, offering to share his own personal space with people was always huge. And it was especially huge considering that these were the very people he’d sworn never to trust again only a few scant years prior. 

But Pepper, bless her, seemed to notice that Tony’s anxiety was only mounting, because she bent down and pressed a kiss to his cheek before crouching delicately on her heels so she was eye level with him. Placing one manicured finger on his chin, she turned his head so that he had to look her in the eyes.

“They’re going to say yes, Tony,” she said gently, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“But what if they don’t,” Tony blurted, nerves getting the best of him, and she tapped his chin with her finger reprovingly.

“They will, honey. And do you know why?” Pepper asked, head tilting almost teasingly, and Tony shook his head no. “Because they’re in love with you.”

And at that ridiculous statement, Tony just blinked at her. But she didn’t seem to expect him to respond, eyes glinting knowingly. Her voice took on a more serious quality, eyes spearing him. “I wouldn’t have believed it a few months ago myself. I thought you were making aa huge mistake when you told me the three of you were dating. I was terrified they’d hurt you again, Tony.”

Tony made as if to interrupt, ready to defend his boyfriend’s, but Pepper shook her head, touching her finger to his lips. “Let me finish,” she admonished, and Tony subsided, pursing his lips. She smirked at his petulant expression, then sobered again. “I really thought they’d hurt you – but that was before I saw the three of you together. And Tony, those boys couldn’t hurt you if their lives depended on it. They look at you like you hung the moon, and you look at them the exact same way. I guarantee the only reason they haven’t asked you to move in with them is because they don’t want to push you – just like I guarantee that they’re going to say yes when you ask them to move in with you. They love you, Tony, and I think you love them, too.”

Tony just stared at her when she removed her finger from his lips, swallowing. “You don’t know everything,” he said hoarsely, “…but…thank you, Pep.”

Pepper definitely knew everything.

The Brooklynn boys moved in later that evening.

 

 

_Six Months Later_

_Super soldiers spotted with Stark heir!_

_Jason Stark being seduced by his father’s murderers? An inside look at Stark’s terrifying new reality._

“Terrifying new reality? Are they fucking kidding?” Tony demanded, tossing the magazine down onto the coffee table angrily where the picture of him with an ice cream cone in hand, grinning as the Brooklynn boys laughed at something he’d said, was displayed incriminatingly. “Do I _look_ terrified?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s their point, doll,” James said amusedly, sliding onto the couch next to him and tugging him close with his metal arm. “They’re sayin’ we’re threatening you into pretending like you like us.”

“Well that’s just fucking dumb,” Tony declared, folding his arms, and James snorted, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

“No one ever accused the press of being intelligent,” Steve said with an amused grin that matched James’s from Tony’s other side, and Tony grumbled incoherently.

“Why can’t they just accept that I’m happy?” Tony wondered, then thought for a moment. “Also, this is a little Twilight Zone for me – usually the accusations of debauchery and who’s corrupting who are the other way around. Weird, it’s actually not any better from this side.”

“Well, I gotta say, I don’t mind it too much,” James said, and Tony glanced at him in surprise, completely missing how the other man’s eyes had darkened.

“What? Seriously? They’re dragging your names through the mud for _no reason_!” he said indignantly, halfway to outraged on their behalf.

“Sure, but they aren’t _entirely_ wrong, are they?” James said, and now there was no way Tony could miss the huskier tone to his voice. He swallowed, and Steve pressed closer from his other side, pressing a kiss against his neck. James eyed them both, a smirk crossing his face before he focused back on Tony, the smirk turning sultry in an instant. “After all, we _are_ seducing you, aren’t we?” James’s metal hand stroked up Tony’s arm, coming to cup his cheek as Steve continued to press kisses down the other side of his neck, and Tony shivered. James watched the movement with dark, hungry eyes, and Tony couldn’t look away. “We _are_ debauching you, aren’t we?”

“Dunno,” Tony choked out, shooting for casual and unaffected but the hoarseness to his voice ruining the intention entirely. “Can’t say for sure. Not enough evidence. Might have to prove your theory. For science.”

“For science,” James echoed, the smile stealing across his face entirely predatory now. “You hear that, Stevie? Tony here thinks he needs more proof of what those articles are sayin’ about us. Think we can give it to him?”

Steve unlatched from his neck for a moment, and Tony bit back a whine at the loss, though the glint in James’s eye told him he was fooling no one. “Let’s give him all the evidence he wants, James,” Steve agreed, and Tony had a single moment to think _’Oh god, what have I gotten myself into?’_ before he was being swept up into Steve’s arms and carried bodily to their shared room.

They definitely presented a preponderance of evidence.

The Stark heir was very much being seduced and debauched by the super soldiers.

 

 

_One Year Later_

Tony woke in a cold sweat, trembling and gasping for air.

“Tony, sweetheart, you’re fine, you’re right here with us,” Steve was murmuring to him when he finally gathered himself enough to tune back in to the world around him. It had to be the middle of the night, still, darkness permeating the room with only the barest slivers of moonlight streaking in through the window. Tony was tense for a moment, but he relaxed when he realized Steve and James were on either side of him, Steve stroking his hair and James rubbing soothing circles on his arm. 

“S-sorry,” Tony finally stuttered out, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to banish the feeling of dread and foreboding that always accompanied dreams of this nature. 

“No need to apologize, doll,” James reassured him, not stopping in his repetitive motions. “We all get bad dreams.” Tony made a wordless noise of agreement, keeping his doubts to himself – because he’d had bad dreams, sure, but there was a difference between his dreams of Afghanistan or Siberia and _this_. But his boyfriends, perceptive as they were, wouldn’t let him off that easy.

“Baby, this is the fourth night this week that you’ve woken up like this. Is everything alright?” Steve asked, nothing in his voice but sweet concern, and Tony swallowed, starting to shake his head yes, then changing his mind and shaking his head no – because he trusted them, and he knew they wouldn’t laugh at him if he shared something that sounded crazy or outlandish. He knew that, and, because of that conviction, there was no reason to lie to them.

“No. No, something’s wrong,” he said, his voice firm, though it wavered slightly in the middle. The super soldiers clutched him tighter.

“What is it, darlin’?” James murmured, voice soothing even in the sliver of tension that had crept in.

Tony swallowed, trying to find the words. “I – I don’t know exactly. It’s just – there’s _something_. Something is coming, James, and I don’t know what it is.”

He knew the words sounded silly, he knew they sounded like the words of someone who’d been through enough nightmares to drive a weaker person insane and now saw threats everywhere – but he also knew his boyfriends would believe him, and he was safe with them.

“Shh, it’s alright, sweetheart. We’re here with you, it’s going to be okay. Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay,” Steve comforted, drawing Tony’s head to lay against Steve’s broad chest. But Tony pushed away, sitting up and turning to look at the super soldiers, desperate to make them understand.

“No, you don’t get it!” he said, distress coloring his tone. “Something’s coming and I _don’t know what it is_. I can’t protect you if I don’t know what to prepare for!”

James and Steve exchanged a look, and Tony felt like his breath caught in his chest, hoping they wouldn’t prove him wrong, wouldn’t show him here and now that he had been foolish to place his trust in them believing him. But they turned back to him as one and pulled him back down between them, cushioning him on either side, drawing him in protectively, possessively.

“We know, Tony,” Steve said quietly, his voice rumbling in his chest. “But you don’t have to protect us. We’ll all protect each other. Together.”

“Together,” James agreed, resting his cheek against the top of Tony’s head.

And the panic and fear that had been clawing its way out since the dreams had started settled, repressed by the presence of his super soldiers.

Because James and Steve were right – what could stand against them when they three stood together?


End file.
